Ivory Heart
by War of Glass
Summary: Tori and Andre find it hard to live in a perfect world, when Tori has an imperfect, racist father. Ivory Heart is a heartwarming, dark, majestic story of forbidden love and rebellion.  Complete
1. The Darker It Gets

Ivory Heart

"Run, run, run, run!"

Chapter 1 "…The Darker It Gets"

Tori runs through the meadow, her hand intertwined with mine behind her. That smile on her face is ethereal, too beautiful to be real. Her hair's lively in the warm breeze. I honestly can't believe I'm here. I don't really deserve it. I never believed in angels, but here she is in all of her glory. Everything's free, everything's fine. She walks barefoot in the tickling grass. Her cream-colored dress flows in the wind, and the way the sun hits her makes me dizzy. The sun's in her eyes, and the sun's in my heart. I'm alive for the first time. It feels like my heart's been dormant before now. In this moment sure to be a memory. I can honestly feel every little thing right now. I feel the burn of the sun, the brush of the pollen against my cheek, and the blood pumping through my veins. And it hurts. It hurts to be alive because that means I'm taking a risk. I'm falling in love and they're no edges to grab onto if I fall too deep. I remember when I was told that, "love is a never ending abyss filled with vines, and the farther you fall in, the darker it gets and you get tangled forever." It was my dad who said that, months before separating from my mom and drinking himself into a grave. I guess that is his own personal abyss. For so long after it happened, I desperately tried to remember those words to the letter. Like a prayer, I would recite them before bed, when I would say grace before dinner, when I would wake in the morning, and when I wished I didn't wake at all. Slugging along was such a blur. It was slow motion. I could never escape my troubles and fears. As cliché as it sounds, I was a lost soul until Tori found it, until she found me. She was the only light in a continually darkening abyss. But I'm not stupid nor blind, I could see that she was a cracked stone angel herself. Far from perfect is just right for me. We saved each other. We were meant for each other. Often times I forget what my dad said. I don't even recite the words anymore. It could never apply to me and Tori. Ironically enough, I do believe in fate. In my eyes, Tori and I are destined.

She quickly lets go off my hand and begins to chase butterflies that float overhead. She's so free, so innocent. She reminds me of Little Red a bit.

"Andre, come on! Help me before they get away," She laughs, coming up empty handed at each attempt to grab one.

"I'll be there in a sec," I answer, brushing back my hair.

Like all angels, she's a guardian. And like all humans, I need one. Without her I feel lost and I feel vulnerable, like I'll collapse and die at any second. But she's my anchor keeping me from drifting to the storm at sea, and she'll light my way no matter how dark it gets. She's a blur on a sunny day, and she's clear in a hazy fog. She's confusing, complicated, but that's what makes her…her. I wouldn't have it any other way. And I want to move, I want to help her catch those butterflies, but I think I've got more than enough for her in the awkward, shy pit of my stomach. Actually it's kind of hard to breathe, even on such a beautiful day. It's funny. I feel weighed down but free and light at the same time, as light as I've ever been. Because this marred, perfect piece of contradiction has my heart in her hands and she cherishes it more than her own. That sometimes scares me-her loving me more than she loves herself-but I'm also flattered at the same time, and I know she'll never let me down. She'll never betray me, what we've achieved, or what we've become. I wish I could tell her this. I wish I could express everything in my mind and my disembodied heart to her because she deserves it, but she gets a certain look on her face when we talk about deep, sentimental things. That sometimes proves a challenge; since I was raised by my grandma to be in touch with my feelings…well, before she went crazy. But for love, sacrifices must be made.

She falls flat on her butt after a failed jump. She blows back the hair in her eyes and looks at me with an incredulous look that makes me laugh. "Are you going to help me or not?" She asks, "Because I've got bruises in places you don't even want to know."

I walk over to her and help her up. She rustles my hair and jumps on my back. "Hey," I shout and laugh as we fall to the grass hard.

"At least I landed on top of you, I'm not hurt," She giggles.

"Yeah…at least there's that," I groan, feeling the pain in my back grow and grow. I don't know what I prefer, the pain or the pain disappearing and that fluttering feeling coming back and I feel like I'm about to take flight with her. She's looking at me, probably wondering why I'm not breathing. It's because she's staring into my shaky eyes with her vibrant ones. I don't know what to do. I want to kiss her, want to hold her here forever. Her breath slows too and I wonder if she's preparing herself to kiss me. I close my eyes and sigh when she gets up and tugs on my arm. The moment has passed.

"Get up get up! They're getting away."

"And that's my fault?"

"Shut up!" She sticks her tongue out at me and throws a clump of dirt my way. "You wouldn't have been any help anyway," She teases. The sun floats through the sky like a feather. The wind slows down and the butterflies fly off into the distance. I look at my loafers pressed into the green grass as she finds a place to rest. A big oak tree invites her and she plops down. Even plopping down lazily, she's graceful. Of course, she invites me over and I sit next to her, my head lying in her lap.

"Having a good time?" She asks.

"Don't I always?"

"I guess you do."

"Huh?"

"What I mean is I just don't pay much attention to you," She teases again. She's trying hard not to crack a grin.

I laugh and roll my eyes. "Yeah, obviously."

She's rubbing my head, her fingers caressing my soft hair. It's so nice I'm nearly falling asleep. I don't want to sleep; I want to experience everything here. I can sleep when I'm dead.

The thunder booms through the noisy night and I'm jolted awake like an uneasy soldier. Those red, suddenly annoying numbers on the suddenly annoying clock beam into my dilated pupils 2:45 A.M. It's a suddenly annoying number. Damn. Was it all a dream? Was it all a dream because I finally fell asleep? I knew I should have stayed awake…I knew it. The rain hits against my window hard and I wonder how I even got to sleep in the first place. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and lie back down. My pillow is wet with sweat. But I didn't have a nightmare, only a reoccurring paradise that fills my thoughts at night. The only nightmare here is now, this…reality. It sucks to be awake, it really does. It booms again outside and I remember it was storming the night she was torn from me. I remember how she banged her fist against the cold glass and shouted for me as the car drove away. How her knuckles bled and smeared the window. How she didn't care or notice. Well, I don't _think_ she cared or noticed. I tried running after her for as long as I could down that subdivision, but it was useless. That's all it ever is, isn't it? Useless. It explains all of my sorrow. It explains her father most of all, and the way he stared into my brown eyes with his blue ones, and condemned me with all of the hate he had pent up inside. How did he find out? How did he know? We were so careful. We were a perfect secret.

No texts, no missed phone calls. She hasn't contacted me in three weeks, and she hasn't even shown up for school. I think Sikowitz is beginning to freak out, because it didn't matter how many times the office called her house and parent's cell phones, there's never an answer. I get up from the bed and close the cracked window, stupid me for forgetting to close it all the way. The rain's stained all of my workbooks and my Chemistry and History textbooks. My little desk is covered in water. Damn, it even got a tiny bit of a letter that Tori wrote me months ago.

_Hey Andre,_

_I think I should have started this with "dear", huh? Oh well, it's pen and I'm out of paper. Anyway, I just wanted to say I had the best time with you and the gang tonight. That scary movie scared the bejeebies out of me! At least I had you to cuddle up with…even if you did fall asleep, loser. You missed a surprisingly good movie you know, and you know how I hate it when you fall asleep on movies, but it was an amazing time nonetheless. I don't say it often, but I care about you…a lot. You treat me like no one else does, and that's something I admire. I feel like a princess around you, safe and protected but powerful and elegant at the same time. You make me feel pretty. You make me feel wonderful. I can't wait for another movie night next Friday! By the way, who uses "nonetheless", anyway?_

_Sincerely, Princess Tori_

God, how could she be so adorable? It's incredible how she can find joy in everything she does and bring laughter with her. She could visit an inmate in jail and have the whole place swooning over her, and no, not because she would be the only girl there. Not that, but because her attitude towards everything isn't an attitude at all. It's a…positive, beautiful outlook on life that I envy. I guess that's why it's so hard to see her breakdown and cry next to me, in the privacy of my room. That damn father of hers always abusing her mother and talk of divorce. It's never a pretty sight, I've seen it before with my friends. Again and again, the pain claims everyone. No one walks away from a broken family unscathed. Trust me, I should know. Is it wrong that I love it when she comes to me for these sorts of things? That when she's on the verge of tears, she doesn't run to Jade, to Cat, her parents, or even to Trina. Well, of course it wouldn't be Trina, but still, I love that she finds that certain comfort in me that she finds in no one and nothing else. I'm that light in her darkness. I'm that knight in her kingdom. Huh, Princess Tori. It has a ring to it, and I never noticed it before. I wish I had started to call her that like she wanted, now I may never get the chance again. If her parents choose to divorce, she goes with her racist dad and I'll never see her again. What an ironic night for it to rain. I smell the letter to try and get a scent of her. It's weird, but it's all I have. She has so many sweatshirts of mine and all I have are letters and memories of her smile. The cell phone's ringing before I even notice it. Apparently, I'm calling Beck with tears in my eyes. It's 3:00 AM, I doubt he'll even be up.

"Hello?" A drowsy voice calls out from the other end of the phone.

"Hey," I say.

"What's up, bro?"

"I can't stay asleep."

"Tori again?"

"Yeah. Tori."

I can hear Jade grumbling in the background, threatening Beck to get off the phone. "Where are you?"

"I'm at my house. Hey man, I'm sorry for calling so late. I just…"

"Can you meet me at Café Java Lava in twenty?"

I sigh. "Yeah."

Café Java Lava is obviously closed but I know he didn't come here for a Mocha Choca Latte. I chill in my car as I wait for him to show up. Some band the radio called City and Colour is playing softly, and I barely catch the words. I barely even catch the beat. It's the beat of my heart that's got me transfixed, because it's barely there and I think I might just die. I open the car door and stick my head out and let the rain fall on my face just to see if I could still feel it. Yep, I'm still here. I see Beck walk around the Café corner and he's quickly pacing his way over to me through the rain.

"Hey, bro," He says, opening the door and quickly getting in.

"Hey, where's your ride?"

"It's in the back."

"Oh."

"Yeah, hey so what were you telling me about Tori?"

I chuckle. "You know, now that you're here…I don't really wanna talk about it."

"I didn't come out here at three in the morning in freezing, cold rain to judge you, Andre."

"That's true."

"So what's the deal?"

"Just Tori. It's her dad. You know what the problem is, you were there. You saw me running, you saw me yelling."

"Calm down, come on. I just came to listen, so…spill."

"I feel like I'm sinking, man. I feel like I'm breaking and shaking and…"

He laughs. "No need to get all poetic, Andre. Just…alright…listen," He takes my hand and puts it to my chest. It's still not beating like it should. Bump…bump…and there's not another one until minutes later. I knew it. I'm dying of heartbreak. "Now, you know what you do? You dig your nails in there as hard as you can and tear your heart out. Then you put it on your sleeve and start talking."

"Well that's dramatic."

"I'm an actor, I don't know anything else."

"Heart on my sleeve? I love her. I'm in love with her, but that's no secret. What I haven't said is that I want to hate her. I want to hate her so much. I want to…just because it'll be easier for us to say goodbye if it comes to that."

"Everything you just said came from your head, not your pure, unrestricted feeling. You're thinking of how to say goodbye in the best way, but you're not thinking of how to get her back in the worst. You need to take all of your anger and frustration and make it into a mission, man!"

I can't answer him. I don't know what to say.

"You do want her back, don't you?" He asks, adjusting the rings on his fingers as his hand rests against the dashboard.

"Yeah I do. I just can't deal with her racist dad. He's a deadbeat, an abuser, and a bigot."

Beck looks at me with his brown eyes. They're brown, sure, but they're still bluer than mine in Mr. Vega's own baby blues.

I try to answer him, but again there's something in my throat. I don't know what to say. "I just want us to be happy again."

_Dear Tori,_

_I have been dreaming about you every night since_

_I have missed your smile. I have missed your laugh. I have missed your smell. __I have missed watching you sleep__. _

_You look so peaceful, always. I know you're not happy, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I cannot be there for you right now. I'm sorry you're gonna have to cry yourself to sleep in your own arms for a while. But I promise I'll be there for you one day soon. Even if I have to tear down the fourth wall and speak to God myself. If I have to threaten the Heavens, I will. I will be with you again. And I'm sorry for all the scribbles. But the point is that I miss you._

_Andre_

I can't seem to shake this feeling. I need to shake this dread to survive, but I just can't seem to do it. And what now? Who do I turn to? For some reason, I can't even talk to my best friend Beck. I can't talk to my insane grandmother asleep in the other room who doesn't even know when I sneak out. I can't speak to my mother, wherever she is, and as for my dad…well. "Love is a never ending abyss filled with vines, and the farther you fall in…the…my God, I've forgotten the words. Perfect. I can't feel the coolness of the room. I can't feel the brush of cold air against my cheek. I can't feel the blood pumping through my veins. Maybe I'm finally numb now, physically at least. I look over the letter I just wrote, scoffing at the crossed out words that made me seem creepy. I'm filtering myself. I'm worrying if she'll judge me. I just seem so worried over the most trivial things lately. I need my Tori.

It's more than terribly late. I'm just glad it's Friday. And by God if I hear anyone sing that Rebecca Black song today I'll kill them. I fold the letter and stuff it into my wallet. I wonder who I'll give it to. It's not like I can hand deliver it to her. Little Red-no, Robbie-no, Trina-no, Jade-good luck with that. Beck-yeah, I could use Beck's help.

I get up from the desk where I had to dry off the water. I walk towards my bed and put my pajamas back on. And then I crash face first into the softness. I feel myself drifting into unconsciousness but I don't want that. I don't want to dream of a paradise again only to wake up to the thunderstorm of another lonely night.

Beck answers the door of his RV to see my tired face. I haven't even looked into a mirror for the past who knows how long. I could have grown a second head without realizing it, and he looks at me as if I did.

"You look worse than you did last night. Did you ever get back to sleep?"

"Nah, my mind kept going and going."

"You wanna go someplace? Get outta that house for a while?"

"What'd you have planned?"

"Nothing really, we could just chill somewhere."

"Why not here?"

"Jade's busy with homework."

"She can't go do that at her house?"

"You wanna be the one to ask her that?"

I groan. "You have a good point."

Beck looks down to see me messing with a piece of paper in my hand.

"What is that?"

It's grown sweaty between my fingers. I don't know how long I've been messing with it. I guess I'm nervous for some reason. "It's, uh, are we going somewhere or not?"

He's smiling. "Let me just grab my hat."

The movie's bland. I don't understand a thing. Actually I'm not even paying attention to it. Beck's slurping loudly on his drink and crunching on his candy bar. My drink sits warm and my candy bar still has its wrapper on. My heads in my hands and I can't thinks straight.

"Sandra, Sandra! The only way I'd stay tonight is if you told the truth!" Some character shouts on the gigantic, massive screen. I sigh and groan and rub my eyes with the bottom of my palm.

"You okay?" He asks me, lips still curled over the pinstripe, candy cane colored straw.

"What truth, Henry? The fact that I tried my hardest? The fact that I tried my damndest for us to be together? That it ate me alive for years before realizing you just weren't the right one?"

"I'm fine."

"Biggest lie in the history of history."

"Well what the hell am I supposed to say?"

"How come you're so tongue-twisted when you talk about Tori? Every time, every damn time. I'm trying to help you out here and you're being a distant douche."

Shit. "I'm sorry, man. I know."

"You know how I feel about sorry's ."

"Have you ever tried to talk about something but you feel so passionately about it that you find it hard to put that emotion into concrete, solid words?"

"We're actors, man. It's my thing to put words and emotions together. It should be yours too."

"Why is everything always about acting with you? Have you ever tried connecting yourself to real life and its issues? I know everything's so perfect with hot ass Jade and a wonderful social life and all that crap, but have you really connected to real life, Beck? You're always living a fantasy."

He laughs wryly. "Jade constantly wonders where I am. She always thinks I'm off with other women cheating on her. She goes through my phone and doesn't think I notice. You wanna know why she loves scissors so much? She does unspeakable things to herself with them. Check out her wrists next time you see her. She's on the verge of a nervous breakdown every night. And every night, I hold her while she cries herself to sleep. Do you know how that makes me feel? Her crying makes _me_ want to cry, man. I stroke her hair and let her tears soak into my shirts. She needs me, and I'm there for her. I love her. I go through all of this bullshit and you know why? Because I love her. I love her, and I don't need her. And I think loving someone without needing them is the most beautiful thing in the world, because if they fall, they don't drag you with them, which makes it easier for you to pick them back up. I live in an RV right outside my house. _Right_ outside my house. My parents don't want to see my face. They despise me, and why? I bring home excellent grades, I always fix dad's car, I keep leaves off of the grass, and snow out of the driveway. But I've forgotten what the inside of that shitty house looks like. So I think my "fantasy" world keeps me from going insane. Being an actor is an outlet. It keeps me composed. It keeps me from needing Jade and keeps me from knocking on that goddamn door to my house. So forget you, alright?"

And it's quiet. Again, I don't know what to say. Someone might as well just cut out my tongue because I don't say much nowadays. "I'm sorry."

"You know how I feel about sorry's."

Now the words want to come. "Tori just…I think that's the difference between me and you, Beck. I need Tori. I need her in my life and my heart. I need her in my dreams as well as my reality. Hell, she _is_ my dreams, she _is_ my reality, and without her I'm just in a fuzzy, grey area on the TV. It's like limbo."

I guess the person in front of us is tired of hearing our life stories, because he shushes us rudely. Beck kicks the back of the man's chair as the movie goes on in its brutally dramatic fashion.

"I'm so sick of hearing the lies, Sandra! Tell me what I need to know so I can be out of here by supper!"

This so-called "Henry" character grabs his supposed wife Sandra by the shoulders and backs her up against their kitchen wall forcefully. "Tell me, Sandra. What the hell is going on?"

She tries to shake free from him but he's too strong. The power of heartbreak and confusion has gotten into him.

"Henry, please…"

He grabs her face and smushes her cheeks and mouth. She speaks with jumbled words. "I love you, Henry. Please stop."

"Just tell me the truth."

Sandra's eyes sink into her head. The warmness in them smolders warmer and her heart grows heavy. Her voice is soft. "Yes, it's true. It happened."

"God dammit, Tori!"

He lets go of her face with one hand and her shoulder with his other. He gives her a look of dread and begins to pace the room. She stands there shaking. "Andre…"

He quickly points a finger in her face. "Don't say another word."

She chokes out a sob she must have been holding forever.

"I loved you, Tori. Why the hell? What happened to us? We were perfect. We were so perfect!" Andre shouts. He punches the wall inches away from her face. She flinches and cries out. When he pulls his hand from the drywall, she slides down to the floor and weeps into her red-handed hands from which she was caught.

"We were perfect, Tori…what happened?"

I come back to reality. My breath is shaky. Sandra and Henry are silent in the kitchen. He's holding his bleeding hand and she's crying on the floor, drywall dust permeating her hair.

God, was I referring to them as Tori and Andre?

Beck is still fuming, I can tell. It's strange. He's always the laid back one. His grip is tight on his now empty drink, and his eyes are narrowed and falsely transfixed on the screen. They're dark and they're smoky. I can tell it even in this darkness. Come to think of it, his eyes are always dark and misty. "Let's head outside. I think we both need some fresh air."

"What about the movie?"

"You wanna know the ending?"

**Hell yes**.

"I guess."

"They both die in the end."

The front of the movie theater is surrounded by nighttime. We must have been in the movies for at least a good hour or so. A couple sits on the side of the building and from what I'm able to see are making out on a row of rocks that contains a tiny garden behind them. It looks like a druggie and his dealer is out way in the woods, beyond the parking lot, and a dog is peeing on the tire of a blue car. Beck pulls out a pack of cigarettes as he walks to the sidewalk of the entrance. I walk behind him and take a seat on a rock gate guarding a garden. He lights himself a cigarette and looks out at the starless night sky, as if there's truly something meaningful out there. He may front with his leather jackets, finger rings, tattoos, and necklaces, but he doesn't need those things to appear cool. He is cool. He's the epitome of it, just his attitude alone makes the girls swoon and the men envious, and he doesn't even fake it. I don't think he knows how to fake it. Maybe I'm wrong; maybe those accessories are really him. Maybe the only accessory he wears is that smile he gives all of the time in school to people he doesn't even know, and probably doesn't even like.

"I'm glad you opened up in there." He says, taking a drag from the cigarette.

"I'm glad you opened up too."

He looks at me.

"I'm sorry about what I said in there. I didn't mean it."

"It's cool. This whole Tori-dad issue's getting to you, obviously. I know what blind rage is like."

"Or that feeling of drifting?"

"Yeah, definitely that feeling."

I pick at a scab on my hand. I'm just checking again to see if I can still feel. I haven't felt a heartbeat in a longer time than usual. Clouds roll through the starless sky. They wrap around the moon like a blanket, warming it from the cold, lonely night. I think it's going to rain again soon. Beck is still smoking and staring off into the distance again. He hasn't had the same attitude since his speech in the movie theater.

"So what are you gonna do about this situation?"

I take the letter from a pocket in the inside of my hoodie. "I've got this letter for Tori. I wrote it when I got back from Café Lava Java."

He walks over.

"Can you take it to Tori for me? You know I can't do it."

"Sure, I'll do it." He takes the letter from me, sticking it into his butt pocket of his black jeans.

"Thanks."

"So…you wanna go back into the movie?"

I think of how I envisioned me and Tori in the spots of the characters. I still don't know what the hell that was about. "Nah…I'm fine. Let's just go."

"Alright, cool."

I get up and walk by him. "Hey, were you serious about them dying in the end?"

He looks at me with an incredulous look. "Yeah, why?"


	2. Fairytales and Dragons

Chapter 2 "Fairytales and Dragons"

There is no peace in separation. People always use that same bullshit line of "distance makes the heart grow fonder." Yet all it's done so far is fuel my burning desire to lash out at everyone and isolate myself into an iceberg. At least inside of it I could cool my rage, cool my misery. Why do I feel caged? I feel like there's nothing I can do, and I fear that's the truth. I can still remember the last time we hung out in the park. White tee shirt, short plaid shorts, flip flops, beautifully flowing brown hair, the scent of the perfume she had on lightly, the whiteness of her teeth, the glint in her eyes, the astonishing, true joy in her laughter. I fear I'm going to forget all those things as time goes on. I wonder if she's forgotten. She probably has.

I take a long sip from the Styrofoam cup. Water…it's always water. I love how grandma can't even afford juice. Or glass. How do we have windows? How do we have this house? And of course, it's storming again. That's all it's been doing for a long time, at least a month come tomorrow. I'm shocked the storms haven't started a flood. I'm shocked I haven't gone out there and tried to drown myself in them. Man…I sound so angsty. But I put myself in this mood. The music I listen to, the storms, none of it helps my mind-set. It's like…my anger has a mind of its own. I almost killed Cat tonight for singing Friday when Beck and I stopped by there for a bit after the movie. Even though I hate that song, I love Cat. I shouldn't have yelled at her.

Baring! Baring! "Jesus!" I jump as my cell rings. I get up from my bed and head over to the desk, where my phone lies on top of my ruined Chemistry book. I let it ring a few times before I even look at it. Tori. It's gotta be her. Who else would call me this late at night? I can feel myself slipping into memories of our late night conversations before the ringing stops. I turn the phone over to see it was Jade who called. She must be pissed Beck and I didn't take her to the movie. Alright, time to use that old Andre charm. You're the man. You're the man. Silver tongue, silver tongue, silver tongue…

…AAANNNDD, "Jade I was told you were doing homework, I swear…"

"That's not why I called, shit-teeth." She greets.

I don't know if I should be relieved or insulted. Maybe a bit of both.

"Why did you call then? It's late. People may start to think things."

"Joke all you want, pimple sore, I know you're hurting. And that's why I called, to see if you were okay."

You called to _what_?

"You called to _what_?"

I repeat myself too often.

She scoffs. "I know Tori's dad's being a big old racist a-hole so I'm calling to make sure you haven't cried a river in your room and drowned in it."

"But you hate me."

"Did I ever say I hate you? No. So I don't. I say what I feel, and I feel what I mean. And I _feel_ irritated that you've been such a sour sap that you haven't hung out with any of your friends besides Beck in weeks, so I _feel_ like being mean."

"It's just a hard time, Jade."

Her tone grows softer, her voice is low. It's rather uncharacteristic. "If I told you I knew how you felt, would you believe me?"

I laugh. "I think that's the first thing you've said to me all night without a curse word or an insult in it."

"I'm for real, Andre. If you keep thinking about this and moping around, it's going to consume you." She pauses and sighs, and then continues, "You have friends, in case you didn't know, friends _besides _Beck. Use us, talk to us. We miss you. Yeah, even me, shit-teeth."

Thunder booms so loud I didn't even hear the click of her hanging up. She's like Batman; I turn my back and she's disappeared.

I grab the cup and drink nothing but air. I'm so tired I don't even feel like going downstairs to refill, and the bathroom sink's water tastes like cigarette ash and it's discolored. Whatever, I'm going to the kitchen anyway. I set down the phone and it misses the desk, clattering to the carpeted floor below. I don't bother to pick it up as I walk out of the door and head down the loud, creaky stairs. I nearly trip over grandma's three, sickly looking cats on the way down. Joy if I broke my neck, right? I hate these things. I wish I could just throw them out in the rain. I would love to see just how much they _really_ hate water. Grandma wouldn't even notice. I mean come on; these cats are as emaciated as my heart.

The fridge is full of delicious, scrumptious nothings. I just love getting plates and plates full of fresh, juicy air. Man oh man, the way my stomach rumbles after a nice meal always gets to me. So let's see. Water jug, water jug, water jug, Styrofoam cup full of water, water, water, oh this is new! Warm water. I pour myself a glass of, well, water. I down it. I pour some more. I down it. I pour more. Down. I drink and I drink. It's as if I'm trying to get wasted on pure, God sent water. If only.

There's a noise behind me. It must be one of those darn cats. I turn around to see her looking at me through the dark with a half asleep face. She's beautiful, yes, but she's not Tori. She's not the girl of my dreams. She's my grandmother.

"Andre, did you hear the noises out there?"

"Yes, grandma, I heard them."

"They're the aliens, aren't they? They're coming to get us."

I sigh. "No, grandma, it wasn't the aliens."

"CIA? It was the CIA, or the Mole Men?"

"No, grandma, it wasn't them either. Let's get you back to bed, come on."

The pillow is soaked with my tears and marked with my fist prints, remnants of anger and tarnished happiness. Poor grandma, it's getting worse. She's literally insane. God, I can't do this alone. Tori was the only one who could help me keep her in check. She was always there for me and my family.

"_You're that FBI woman ain't you? Get her away from me, Andre!"_

_Tori sighs, tucking grandma's pillow under her neck. She opens the book in her hand and starts reading. _

"_Get her away from me!"_

"_The dragon upon the roof of the castle looked down at the townsfolk. Everyone had escaped the clutches of the dragon by abandoning the village, but there stood one, lone man. Call him a lone wolf if you will. He was but a wee boy, no more than fifteen years of age."_

_Grandma throws heavy items at Tori but she continues to read, even after a cup full of nothing else but water hit her. With a little anger in her tone, "The boy was raised to have pride in his home. He was raised to believe even dragons, goliaths, and demons could be beaten, could be overtaken and he alone could save the town. The boy prays to God, and a voice from above tells him to blink once, and it'll all be over. The boy does so, and when he opens his eyes the dragon's head lies in front of him and he's being cheered by his friends, his family, and people he never even knew before. He was a local legend, all because he believed in the power of God."_

Tori was amazing that day. Tori was always amazing. She was truly an angel. Jesus, I'm talking about her like she's dead. Maybe she should be, and maybe I should be with her. We'd have finally, truly escaped this bondage of physical life and moved on to eternal love beyond bodily existence. But life isn't what I wish, it's what I fear the most and it's given to me full force. If life was like a fairytale, I would be able to close my eyes right now, the dragon would be slain, and I would be a hero in Tori's eyes. Maybe I'd listen to her read too many of them, or maybe I've just always believed in faith, so I do. I close my eyes tight, and I hold them like that for a long time. I'm speaking to God without even saying a word. He knows I've slowly been losing my faith, so I'm hoping he'll renew his name clean and fresh as the water in my fridge. I keep my eyes closed as I wish, as I pray. I'm praying to you God, I'm praying.

I open my eyes, and it's still dark in my bedroom, the thunderstorm still rages on outside, the dragon still lives in Tori's house, I am no hero to anyone, and I just want to lash out at everyone and isolate myself into an iceberg. Maybe that'll become my catchphrase, because I feel it so often now. The storm has let up out there, and it's light outside. I guess I was praying too long I fell asleep, and maybe God did too. I knew fairytales weren't real.

It's 8:21 AM, why the hell am I even awake? There's no way I did it on my own. And just like that, I get my answer. Another rock strikes my window, this time leaving a tiny crack in the upper corner. I hurry over to the window to see Jade with a handful of rocks on my front lawn. In a car behind her are Cat, Robbie, and Beck. I open the window to such a welcoming voice.

"You coming down or am I going to have to break your window?"

"I'm on my way, jeez."

I grab my phone and throw on some random clothes as I head for the door and down the stairs. I back up and look into my grandma's room. She's silently asleep in her bed, turned away from me. I should check on her, but I'll be back later tonight. I continue down the stairs and past the neglected cats that sit on the counters in the kitchen. I shield my eyes as though I'm a vampire or a hobbit finally seeing the myth of the sun. Jade's as pale as the white light that temporarily blinds me as she walks over to me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the black Corvette. I hop into the backseat with Cat and Robbie. Jade never lets Cat ride shotgun. She never trusts her own driving skills enough to risk Cat's safety. But Beck always sits in the front when she drives, not because they're in a relationship, but because he's the only one who trusts her driving besides Cat. I look back at my house as we drive off. Some small part of me prepares to watch the house burst in flames before me. In fact, that happens every time I leave. Grandma always has me worrying.

I try to drown out Cat's loud singing by focusing on the trees and the dead animals on the side of the road. They enter my eyes as glimpses, flashes of death on a somewhat peaceful drive. I turn to look at Cat. Her gorgeous velvet hair bobs side to side as she dances and sings. I don't know the song but I'm enthralled anyway seeing her be her usual, goofy self. It's also a pleasure to see Robbie laugh along with her. Rex is shaking his own head in disgust of the two, similar to how Jade is. They can't deny it all they like, but they know they love those two, but maybe not as much as those two love each other. I've always seen the way Robbie looks at Cat, with longing and pain behind his foggy glasses. I feel for him. He's misunderstood. I think we're all misunderstood in a way, and maybe that's what pulls us together. As different as we are, we're one unit in our diversity. We may have all started out together because we're outcasts, but we've stayed together because we've grown a bond over time. I would have to say Beck and, Tori, and me were the only "popular" kids among us, but we all kind of distances ourselves from the drunken sex parties the "popular" kids partake in. We didn't dig that. We wanted futures, and we still do.

Beck's trying not to spill coffee on him as Jade makes hard turns and sharp stops. I chuckle because he's not very successful.

"Robbie, why don't you just ask the girl out before that dye washes out of her hair and my hair grows gray?" Rex asks.

"Your hair can't go gray!"

Cat stops singing to the music in the car and turns to Robbie. "Did you say my name?"

"Uh, no. Must've been the music or something," He answers, diverting his eyes.

You can do better than that, Robbie. You can do better than that.

Our car pulls up into Jade's driveway. "My parents are out of town until Monday," Was all she said, and that's all we really needed to know. Cat jumps out and skips to the front door, Robbie's following behind her and behind him is Beck. "Roll up the window," Jade orders before she turns the car off.

The TV's already on and some show that actually looks pretty good is playing in the living room. The gang's all sprawled out on the two soft couches and eating chips and drinking pop. I'm not sure if they have superhuman speed or if it really took me that long to reach the house. I know I've been kind of sluggish lately. I've been in Jade's house so many times I don't even need to ask where to or if I can hang up my coat. I don't even do that anymore, I just throw it on a chair in the kitchen. Before I join them, I look them all over once more. Beck's lying back with his fedora on his stomach. He's drinking his coffee and staring up at Jade, who's looking at me. Cat's making action noises like crash and boom and flailing her arms around to go along with the TV show that's evidently captured her wandering attention. I lose focus on the rest of them as I remember that Jade's looking at me. Something's on her mind, I know her, I know that look. Without even being asked, I turn around and head into the dark kitchen where we can talk privately. She's close behind me, walking past when I stop and lean against the wall.

"So what's the deal?"

"What?"

"Why are you still being such a downer?"

"I'm not being a downer. I agreed to come here, didn't I?"

"That's the thing; any other time we wouldn't have to ask."

I dismiss whatever she's trying to imply and wonder why there isn't a window in this kitchen…

"I'm talking to you!" She scoffs, punching my arm.

"What am I supposed to say, Jade?"

"You're supposed to tell me why the hell you're still sulking over that dumb whore Tori."

It didn't matter how long I glared at her with disdain in my eyes, she wasn't going to catch fire.

"I'm waiting."

"Why do you care?"

"Because like I told you, I never said I hated you, so I don't. I care about you, you're my friend. But I have said, and many times, that I hate Tori, so I do. I just don't think she's worth the pain you're putting yourself through."

"You don't even know what I'm going through."

Another uncharacteristic trait comes to Jade and she gives a sympathetic look. "Beck doesn't have the quietest mouth, you know," She says solemnly.

I want to open up. I swear I do. I want to run past her and burst into the living room and tear my heart out like Beck advised and just talk and cry and talk and cry to them, to my closest friends. It's a sad thing I can't, because something's holding me back, but that same thing's holding me together.

"I haven't spoken to her in forever. No one's seen her or Trina for that matter. I'm afraid her father did something gravely stupid, or she did, I'm afraid that they moved or something, I'm afraid that she's moved on just that quick. I'm just…I'm just afraid, okay?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, it's not okay. I know you find it hard to believe, but I'm worried about you. You're pent up in that house all day with that bat ass crazy grandma of yours, you don't answer your phone as often as you used to, you've been acting distant ever since Tori's dad caught you two kissing, and you like to stay in dark places," She finishes and walks over to the light switch and flicks it on.

"You're so distant you might as well be like her, not even here."

"I think that every so often now too." I say and look to the marbled floor.

She puts her head in her hands and brushes back her hair in exasperation. "Poor choice of words, Jade," She mutters to herself, but I can still hear her.

"You're just so self destructive lately. Is there anything I can say or do to make this night just a little bit more enjoyable for you?"

"Yeah," I start," Just let me go watch the show with the gang, I'll be fine." I walk out of the kitchen and see the gang in the living room scramble from where they were eavesdropping back to their places. I can't see her, but I imagine she's still standing there with a frustrated look on her face and a tight grip on the counter table, and maybe even a hand on her hip. Robbie tries to casually turn up the TV volume with the remote as if I didn't just catch them. I'm sitting by Cat on the couch and I can feel her warm, brown eyes on me.

"What is it, Cat?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," I tell her, and I smile.

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Andre."

And that tugs on my heart like the frailest harp string. Music that just doesn't sound the same until that specific string is either replaced or cut. I hate when I upset Cat. The certain looks she gets makes my heart warm but sometimes too warm, to the point it's burning and I find it hard to breath. She's like my little sister, why would I want to hurt her?

"Why are you lying?"

"Cat…it's complicated, alright? I don't want to confuse you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cat, we'll talk later, alright?"

Robbie saves my skin by setting down Rex and coming over to separate us. "Cat, Andre has to go…clean the kitchen!"

"Oh, alright," She says naively. I'm somewhat thankful, but I hate how he throws me back into the kitchen.

So…I'm back in the kitchen, and Jade's staring at me. She's angry, and rightfully so. I should apologize, in fact, I need to apologize to a lot of people about my behavior lately, but I don't want to hear more of Jade so I try to walk past her to go to the stairs that lead downstairs, but she grabs hold of me and pulls me into a hard hug. "I never told you why I hate her. I never really had anything much against her, but I hate what she's doing to you. She's taking you down with her. I'm saying this quietly so they can't eavesdrop again, but you're one of the only ones who get me, who really, really get me. You, Beck, and Cat get me, and I love you all. I care for you all, just don't tell them that." She whispers into my ear.

Quite frankly, this is pretty startling to see from Jade. I'm used to the hard-boiled, tough, ragged Jade that I know and love. She's letting me see past a wall that I never intended to climb in the first place, and why? Because she pities me? Because she hates for me to bring down her party? Am I being too cynical?

Beck walks in. I can hear his boots scrape against the marble with sophistication. I turn my head and he's got his fedora on his head again, his leather jacket's on and his coffee's empty.

"Going to get more?" I ask. He only smiles as he rustles my hair with his hand, and it actually hurts since his rings scratch my head. He kisses Jade on the cheek and I can see the wetness on his lips. She's crying and I didn't even notice it?

"Come on outside, we'll chat," He says and Jade and I break our hug.

"Talk to you later, Jade." I walk out of the kitchen with Beck following behind me and we walk outside without even looking into the living room.

"So what's up, bro?" He asks.

"Same old, same old."

"Hopefully Jade got through to you?"

"I guess she did."

"Well, since she's crying in there, I hope it wasn't for nothing."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make her cry."

"It's fine," He sighs, taking a seat on the porch steps.

A group of girls walk by and they all smile and shout, "Hey, Beck!"

He genuinely smiles and waves his hand. "Hey, ladies!"

"Well, Mr. Popular, I promise I won't be like this for long. Maybe it's just a phase I'm going through."

He leans his head back against the concrete and looks up at me. "I really hope intense love's not a phase, if so, Jade and I are screwed."

I laugh and pretend to kick his head. "Whatever. I don't know what it is I'm going through."

"It's called heartbreak, Andre, and it ain't going away until you fix your heart, and that's something you need two people for."

I nod my head and begin to head back inside before he says, "And don't worry, I'll try to give her your note tomorrow."

"I really….uh…like your hair, Cat."

"Thanks!" Cat squeals, completely enchanted by the TV show.

"You also have pretty eyes. They're like two suns at dusk, and I'd love to watch them set and see them rise."

"Aww, that's so sweet, Robbie."

"Yeah…um…" He takes a look at Rex sitting on the opposite couch, "Would you like to-

"Oh this is my favorite part!" She shouts, jumping up and leaning into the TV more. Robbie has an excruciating pain in his face. He looks as though he'll cry, and I can't help but feel bad for him for Cat's naïveté.

The door closes and Cat spins around. "Hey, Andre!" She smiles widely, waving to me.

"Hey," I respond. "What's going on?"

"Well, the detective's have a warrant for the suspect's house. They're on their way there now," Robbie answers.

"Interesting."

I couldn't care less.

"Yeah," He sounds disheartened. For a moment I wonder if he's heard me, but that's passed now and I remember what just happened between Cat and him and how this behavior is expected. The show on TV is still going even though it's been like an hour since we got here and the show was already about twenty minutes in. It's all just white noise to me. I'm not really focusing on anything. I'm not really doing anything. I'm not really anything. I'm just here, and like Jade said, I shouldn't be. Just noticing it, I'm not really fully anywhere anymore. How can all of me be somewhere when my other half is missing? When I'm torn apart?

I walk into the foggy kitchen. Through the smokescreen I see Jade smoking at the table. I walk over to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

"I've probably ruined the night," She looks up at me, her eyes are squinted in the haze," I'll make it up to you all. Remember that carnival we drove by on the way here? Let's go there tomorrow. It'll be our little thing before school the next day."

"I'd like that, shit-teeth."

I pretend to strangle her as she laughs.

My bed is nice and warm. I would surely bet I could fall asleep right now, but no, my mind still wants to run. I'm wide and awake from Jade's place, but I guess it wasn't all bad, I mean, they really care about me. It's good to feel that, feel that comfort in friends that you can't even get from family. They're my comfort. In fact, they're like my bed. They're nice and warm. I feel like I could fall asleep in any of their arms and feel completely safe, even the guys. The TV is nothing but black, gray, and white static in the darkness. Grandma's still asleep in her room. I wonder if she even woke up today. It's probably for the best, she had no opportunity to burn down the house or injure herself, but that leaves me to feed those damn cats, which I did with impatient haste. And all I can think about is Tori, and how she loved…_loves_ those cats, and shockingly enough they love her back. She surely is everything I'm not. Damn it, everything's so gray and hazy, I feel like I'm in that smoky kitchen again. All I can hear is the low, mechanized, static sound of the TV and I feel myself blurring away as well…into a black, gray, and white static in the darkness.


	3. As the Storm Grew Fierce

Chapter 3 "As the Storm Grew Fierce"

**Tori**

They say life screws us all over in the end. They say none of us dies a virgin. But what if you're pure? What if your values are strong and your willpower is great? Decent even? If you're a good person, does life take pity on you? Does it let you live a long, prosperous, and happy life? Or is it a grim reaper disguised as billions of beating hearts? Coming to steal your soul in the dead of night not depending on how you lived your life, but if it's just simply time for you to go. I can honestly say I am not a virgin. I have not lived a happy life for as long as my battered mind will allow me to remember. Life has screwed me over and over again, and frankly I feel violated. It doesn't matter if I stand in the shower scrubbing and scrubbing until the water grows cold, life just won't go away. And I guess it's not enough that I feel violated, no, not for an actress, I have to look the part too. I'm curled up in my bed facing the wall, motionless as I listen to my volatile father downstairs. I'm so scared. It's been weeks and he's still fuming over Andre being in my room and us…kissing. Mom knew about it, and she tried her best to keep it secret, yes, but that wasn't enough. It's never enough when you've got a father like mine. I can hear his words down there. The acidic bigotry that's coming from his mouth, that's not my dad, it can't be my dad, it's the alcohol. My God…please let it be the alcohol. But that makes me think of what a friend once told me, that alcohol doesn't make a person evil, but it brings it out of them.

"Not only do I have to see and hear niggers on the TV and at work and all that shit, but to have one in _my_ house, _my_ house, is inexcusable damn it. I can't believe she pulled that shit, and to have _you _allow it! When you _know_ how I feel about them!"

Dad…stop…

"She can do anything she pleases. I've never restricted her from anything, but she knows there are lines and she knowingly crossed them! A plus student with no common sense!"

Dad…this isn't you…

"Why couldn't she fall for that nice boy Beck? He seems well off enough, and he's got a good head on his shoulders."

I can't take it anymore. I get up out of the bed and stomp over to the closed door. I open it with anger and spew out, "Well maybe Beck's just not dark enough for me!"

I hear footsteps already making their way up the carpeted stairs. I made a mistake. It slipped, and now I'm dead. As I see his hulking body make its way towards me I close my door and press my back against it, hoping I'd have the strength to avoid another beating. It's a joke because I'm flying forward to the floor as my door nearly snaps off of its hinges against my wall. I look up at him like he's the dragon come to steal my soul with fire as I scramble away on the floor like a damsel in distress never to be rescued. Words try to form on my tongue to ease his anger but the certain cat named fear has got my tongue and filled it with sand, sand because my throat feels grainy with his hand squeezing it. I look into his dark eyes as he seethes. "Dad, please understand," I plead, and it must have been the desperate whimper in my tone because he drops me to the floor like I'm a crumpled piece of paper and he walks out of the door. I feel like a crumpled piece of paper as well, used and thrown away. I feel violated again, though he has never once touched me in that way. It's just the way he talks, the way his eyes peer into my soul. I don't want him looking into my soul. If I can't see their soul anywhere, I don't want them seeing mine.

He's shouting and yelling downstairs again, and Mom is crying because of what she thinks he did to me. I want to shout down there that I'm okay. I want to sate her pain as I always find myself doing, but I fear talking any further. No noise comes from Trina's room. I bet she's forced herself to sleep, even though it's only about six or seven at night. Lucky her, she doesn't usually have his uncontrollable rage projected onto her, only Mom and me. And I know it's wrong, and I know I shouldn't wish it, but I wish it was her…not Mom…not me. The sound of Dad's yelling drowns out soon by a noise outside. I've been in this room so long I've mastered being able to tell what is what on the road, and it's a motorcycle. I crawl over to the window and stretch my neck to look out of it. Beck's in the distance riding towards my house. He's helmetless and I wonder if that's illegal. No matter what it is, it looks really cool. In fact, he always looks cool. The leather jacket he's wearing, his long hair, his jewelry, his bike, his voice, his sunglasses, his guitar on the backend of it, his everything. Jade's a really lucky girl. Sometimes I wonder how different things would be with Beck, and ever since a few weeks ago, I've concluded things would be _very_ different. But different in a way I wouldn't and don't want, Andre is what I want, and he's worth all of this…isn't he?

Beck rides up to the curb of the house. He kicks the brake down on his motorcycle and hangs his sunglasses on one of the handlebars. He lights himself a cigarette as he walks towards my house, the smoke blowing past him with the wind. I hear my dad tell Mom to stop crying and stay silent. I also hear the door open, and Beck's friendly voice warms me. The nervous beating in my chest prevents me from making out their conversation, but considering Dad's biased admiration for Beck, it couldn't have taken him that much work to be allowed up here. In fact, I can hear him approaching my door. He knows I know he's there, but out of courtesy he knocks on the hallway wall anyway, looking in at me crouched on the floor from the doorway.

"Knock knock," He greets, and I must have blushed because he grinned and entered.

We look at each other a while, and then he smokes the cigarette again casually. "So you _are_ alive after all."

I swallow hard. "Barely."

"I would ask how you are, but that would be a stupid question."

I look at the carpet waiting for him to continue. I'm starting to smell the cigarette smoke in the room, and I would usually hate it, but it eradicates the stench of the alcohol.

"So where's Trina"

"Her room…" I answer awkwardly. He nods and begins to saunter around the room.

"The gang misses you."

"And I miss the gang."

"Andre misses you mostly."

A quick pain enters me and makes me cringe. I feel tears already.

"He's been a wreck."

I still have nothing to say. I mean, what can I say? 'Oh okay let me grab my coat and let's go'? No, this is Alcatraz and Beck's just a visitor. I'm doing hard time for a revolting crime: loving Andre, my dad's Public Enemy #1. Even if I do step outside, there's water all around, where can I go? What do I do?

"Not like a car wreck, Tori, a train wreck."

"And?"

Of all of the words to escape my mouth, why those? Why couldn't it have been something including the words me and too or something?

His cigarette nearly falls out of his speechless mouth.

"It's just…I wanna quit, Beck. I wanna just give up on all of this, because it's killing me. I feel like I'm literally snapping in two, and it hurts so much. It seriously does. And I don't know what to say. I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know what _he_ wants me to say. I'm so scared that I'm sick. My stomach is twisting and turning, and nothing's stopped it from making me cry myself to sleep for weeks." My voice cracks.

"You don't have to say anything, just come with me. He's dying to see you."

"Well I'm dying _because_ I've been seeing him. I think separation is what we need for a little…besides, it's not like I can just walk out of here without being scrutinized to no end. I think there's a bit of peace in separation."

I'm breathing heavy. It's as though I've run miles and miles to get out of here, trying to find a place out of everywhere, only to locate nowhere. I'm losing my breath and I don't know why until I realize that I'm not inhaling anymore, it's just one long exhale of a sob that's destroying my stomach. I can only see in my head Andre's beautiful, flawless face with tears down them, his fists against his wall and his anger pointed at me like a gun to my head, and us both wishing for him to pull the trigger and just yell at me, shout at me, shriek at me for being such a lousy girlfriend, a lousy friend, a lousy person. I don't deserve him, oh God I don't deserve him.

Beck comes to me and crouches down, reaching out to hold me. I resist half-heartedly and he pulls me into him. And this is how Andre used to hold me. Beck must have been with him recently, because I can smell his cologne on Beck's jacket. It's adorable, he always wears too much. I keep my eyes close and I'm a little girl again, pretending that it's Andre holding me, and I hold him close. I don't want him to ever let me go.

"I love you, Andre," I whisper.

Beck does something above me that I can't see, I think he laughs, and he pets my hair. "He loves you too."

I sniffle and break from my lips, "I don't deserve it."

"Yeah you do. All of this pain you're going through, you deserve all the happiness in the world."

"You know what Andre used to do for me? He used to sing me songs during thunderstorms as we cuddled."

I look up at him and he's looking outside, he hadn't realized the storm outside. It's been doing that a lot lately: raining. I guess it's only fitting.

"What did he used to sing?"

"Well, there were a lot of songs. But one in particular was this song by City and Colour. He never really liked the band, but he tolerated it because I loved it. He's such a suck-up."

"What was the song?"

I narrow my eyes. "I don't remember."

He's silent as I strain my brain. "Was it this? 'I can hear my train coming; it's a lonesome and distant cry. I can hear my train coming; now I'm running for my life…"

"No…no, not that one."

"Let me try again, was it 'Love of mine, won't you lay by my side, and rest your weary eyes before we're out of time…"

I smile into his shirt. "It's that one."

"Screw third time, it's always the second try that's the charm."

"Sing."

He clears his throat. "Love of mine, won't you lay by my side, and rest your weary eyes before we're out of time. Give me one last kiss, for soon, such distance, will stretch between our lips, now the day's losing light."

I hum along as he sings me into bliss.

"Lost at sea, my heart beat is growing weak, hoping you'd hear my plea and come…"

I look up and wonder why he's stopped.

"Wait right here," He grunts and gets up and that forces me to raise my head.

He nearly runs out of the room and down the stairs. I would go see out of the window but I'm so comfortable here. I sit back against a bunch of pillows we had gathered together and wait for him. I nearly doze off before I hear strumming of an acoustic guitar. I open my eyes quickly to see a soaked Beck sitting on a chair he had gotten from the kitchen downstairs. It smells like alcohol because Dad spilled some on it earlier this morning. "Lost at sea, my heart beat is growing weak, hoping you'd hear my plea and come save my life. As the storm grew fierce and danger was certainly near, I knew there was nothing to fear."

I close my eyes and listen to Andre serenade me to sleep.

"Bring me your love…tonight."

I love you, Andre.

"No I am not where I belong, so shine a light and guide me home…"

I love you.

I nearly scream myself awake because the thunder frightens me. I groan and get up groggily and grab my phone off the bed. 9:00 PM. I look around for Beck but he's disappeared and there's a note in his place on the seat. It's from Andre. My heart skips not one but a few beats as I rush to my bed and turn on the bright light. I pull the cover over my legs and prepare myself as if I'm about to watch a grand movie. But after reading the letter, I realize that this love story might not have a happy ending. The tunnel grows thinner. The walls are closing in. How could Andre just think that he can come in and profess his love and everything will be automatically better? I'll be set free from these invisible chains and run back into his arms? I need him to fight the dragon that haunts me at night, not try to scare it away with flickering fire on a windy day. For once, I need to be rescued. I need to be the victim for once, just so he'll fight for me. This letter…it's sweet….but it does nothing. It does _nothing_. I can't respond to this, what do I say? He's got fancy words, "If I have to threaten the Heavens to be with you again, I will," but it's no substance. I'm still hungry. I'm still starving for him. I know this letter was supposed to give me hope, but all it's done is anger me, and I don't know why it has. I…just…don't know.

A crash and a scream echo from the living room. I hear light, rapid footsteps and hard, thumping stomps following them. It's Mom and Dad again, oh God. I quickly get up and open the door. I hurry across the hall and crouch down by the stairs. Peering down there I could see Mom against a wall with her head in her hands, tears running through her fingers and down her bruised wrists. I look around and see Dad taking a swig of beer a few feet away, and Trina frozen solid in the kitchen from where she was getting a glass of milk. Dad accidently drops the beer bottle in a stagger back to Mom. My feet are running down the stairs before I can stop them. I can feel my brain pulling me back up the stairs and climbing into bed, but my heart has a shield and a sword and is ready to defend my mom.

"Dad, stop!" I yell as I run in front of Mom. I spread my arms out and look the beast dead in the eye. I can feel him staring into my soul again, sucking the life and the confidence out of me, and I can see nothing. But I can smell the alcohol that forces him to strike me down onto my stomach. Everything is smeared and blurry. I'm too afraid to even look up when he kicks me in the gut. "Dad…please!" I shout, and he kicks me again. He picks me up by my shirt and begins to wail on me with an open hand. My head bounces back and forth like a bobble-head and I think my neck might snap at any moment. My sobs come out broken and tangled, because the blood in my mouth is preventing me from making any sort of coherent sound. The tears running down my face doesn't stop him from beating my face in like I'm a hulking, giant, male adult like him. This isn't fair. What did I do to deserve this? It feels like he's beaten all the skin off my face and he's just cracking the bone. He's really trying to reach my soul this time. Mom doesn't do anything but cry into the carpet. Trina comes from the kitchen and tries to pry Dad off of me but he strikes her in the eye and she falls back, and then runs upstairs. "Dad, I love you, please," Is all I can manage to say before he lets go of my shirt and I slump to the floor. The dragon's won again. He always wins. He's burned me to ashes and I just want to blow away with the wind, just to escape this place.

He doesn't bother me again as I stumble my way slowly up the stairs. I have to feel my way around because my eyes hurt so damn bad. I'm shocked I managed to make it up the stairs without collapsing into sleep. I make my way to Trina's closed door and gently knock with all the energy I have. "Trina…open up." Nothing. "Trina…it's me…please…" I say and I start to cry nothing, it's just dry heaves as I turn my back to her door and slide down. My stomach hurts, my face hurts, and all I want is my sister who won't open the door for me. I hope she doesn't blame me for her getting hurt…I can't take her hating me too. After a while of just sitting there, I painfully get up and head into the bathroom by my room. I turn on the light and my eyes narrow in pain. I'm afraid to look into the mirror, but I have to see the damage. Huh…it doesn't look as bad as I thought. It's just bruises, and a few cuts here and there. My eyes aren't really swollen that much, it's just a black eye and a swollen cheek. I back up a bit and pull up my shirt. My stomach has green and brown bruises as well, right in the area where Andre used to plant kisses.

My bed is my lover. If I could, I would never leave it again. How could a day that had the potential to be remotely good turn so wrong in a matter of hours…and the storm raging outside is obviously going to prevent me from sleeping for a while. God, Dad, what happened to you? Why do I even still call you dad? You don't deserve it. This is all about what someone deserves, isn't it? Well Beck is right, I deserve happiness, and this isn't it. This life…it isn't it. Rick, you weren't always like this, you used to be a good father. I used to be your princess.

"_Tori, come on for the cake! We need you to blow out the candles!"_

_I run across the grass in the park, dirt all over my dress and my hair a mess. Dad laughs and brushes the dirt off of me. He smoothes out my hair and kisses me on top of it. He lifts me up on his shoulders and carries me to the cake where all of my friends and family are. Mom's got the biggest smile on her face and Trina's observing herself in the mirror, trying to demolish any blemish or bump, visible or not. Dad sets me down in front of the huge, blue and white frosted cake and wraps his strong, protective arms around me and sits his chin on my shoulder, lightly though, as not to hurt me. _

"_Make a wish, sweetheart," He whispers to me._

"_Will Santa hear it?"_

"_Santa's busy, sweetheart. He's getting ready for Christmas in a few months. Are you excited for Christmas?"_

"_Yeah!"_

_He laughs again. "Good, so let him get ready. I'll make sure this wish gets granted. Come on now, make a wish and blow out the candles."_

_I flutter my eyes closed and wish, but when I blow the fire on the candles stay. Dad tells me to try again and I do, but I can feel a rush of air behind me as well, and the fire goes out. Everyone claps. This is the best day of my life._

"_Hey, Tori, how old are you?" Aunt Cicilia asks. _

_Dad smiles at her and looks at me. "Tell her how old you are, dear, go ahead."_

_I raise my hand and hold it open."Five."_

"_Five and what, dear?" He continues, still gleaming._

"_Five and a half!" I shout joyously. Dad laughs heartedly and picks me up, bear hugging me. _

"_That's right, princess, five and a half!"And he sets me back on the park bench._

"_What'd you wish for?" Someone in the crowd asks. _

_Before Dad can stop me from answering, I shout out, "I wished that I can have the best parents in the whole wide world!" I say, spreading out my arms with the word "world". _

_Dad crouches down next to me and sighs, though happiness still gleams like diamonds in his eyes. His soul is fully visible and it's crystallized in diamonds. "You weren't supposed to tell them, dear. Now it may never come true."_

_I lower my head in sadness and pout, but then he rustles my hair into the mess it was before and he puts his hands on my face and pulls me into a kiss. "I'm just kidding, sweetheart. I'm just kidding. We'll always love you, princess. Always." _

Rick broke the only promise he ever made to me, and that was enough to turn this home into a house, because a house is not a home. I grab a pillow and clutch it close to me. I turn around and turn off the light and then I close my eyes and begin to sing myself to sleep. Andre sings me to sleep. "Bring me your love tonight…"

**A/N-This is obviously the darkest chapter of IH yet, and it was difficult to write. I wish I could promise that it gets lighter from here, but this is a love story after all, and when is love ever easy? I thank you all for reading, and I beseech you to continue reading. Good day!**


	4. They Fall Back In Fear at My Burning

Chapter 4 "They Fall Back in Fear at My Burning"

Suicide, believe it or not, is actually a slow process. It's the self-destruction of your mind. It's the self-destruction of your beliefs, of your energy, of your faith. It's the final step to disappearing. It's the final show, the final magic act. There is no applause. There is no encore. It intertwines its vines into every other emotion you feel until you feel nothing at all. It strangles you, drags you by the ankle away from happiness, away from that light that you've searched your whole life for. Soon, the light fades deeper and deeper back into your subconscious, and you forget you ever searched for it in the first place. The illusion is glamorous. The promise is a gamble. You won't see what's on the other side of the curtain unless you peek through, but you must be ready to see the darkness of backstage. You must be ready to see the darkness where no man should go until the show is over, until the world is through. I'm scared for Tori, truly. I wish I could just protect her from all the corruption in the world, put her on her own little pedestal in the sky. But I can't, and I'm a failure, and I need to disappear.

This is too much. I can't even focus on Sikowitz's lesson of the day, something about "mock arguing". He's animated and weird enough to keep my eyes on him, but I'm just so tired. His arms sway every which way as he describes the perfect argument. "You have to impress and address," He says, "Impress and address. Scare your audience, scare them with intensity, this is an argument, folks, and I know you teenagers just have that natural angst running through your bloodstream." He walks over to his desk and takes a sip from his coconut drink.

"Arguments stem from emotion. You have to care about what you're saying. If you don't care about what you're saying, then you're going to lose your argument, and I know none of you like to lose. Heck, I don't like to lose, which is why I drink these coconut shakes, keeps me fit and fast."

"But you've never ran a day in your life past high school," Jade says, not raising her hand.

"Oh, well then…I don't know why I drink this stuff," He scoffs, and throws it across the room. "But you know what Jade? I'm the teacher here, I'm the one with the degree, and you're the one with the weird tattoos and piercings!"

Jade scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"See children? That was an argument made on the spot. I didn't mean it, my heart wasn't in it, and so I lost. Even if I was into it, Jade would have still won…"

All this time I've been the one protected. No matter how many times I resembled the silhouette of a heroic knight, it was her who was my guardian angel more than anything. More than my lover, more than my best friend, more than anything, she was the seams that held me together. And how do I respond to that? How do I react when I think of her broken and damaged with acid running down her cheeks? I suppose it's better than blood, but the pain still burns her cheeks to the bone, exposing all of her vulnerability, a trait she often reserved for solitary nights with me, intimate and never pressured. I'm finally feeling the blood seep through my shirt from Cupid's arrows, and I'm squeamish, I don't like the sight of this and I'm scared of what's going to happen. Subconsciously I hear, "Beck, you're going to pair with Cat, and then after them it's you, Sarah, with Andre, and then it's you and Vanessa, Timmy, and then I'll get to the rest of you all after these guys are done," From Sikowitz, and I can feel Sarah's excited gaze on the back of my head, but I feel the wet heat of the blood more so, and I can't be distracted from the pain no matter how hard I try. What's even worse is I can't remember what she looks like. Even though the school's surrounded by posters of the Drama children, with her in front, it's not the same. There is only that plastered smile that I can't help but know is a façade meant to keep everyone but me out of her head. I can easily see her face, but I can't remember the emotion behind it. I can't recall her closed tight eyes and bitten lip every time she buried her head in my shoulder during scary movies, the stuck out tongues and playfully rolled eyes every time we teased and picked at each other, the innocent and vulnerable look she gave during our kisses…Hell, I'd even go for seeing the acid down her face, anything as long as it meant she's still living, that that heart is still beating, because mine's slowing by the day, the hour, the minute. Every second I'm dying. Suicide is a slow process, and I'm self-destructing for every blink of my condemned eyes.

In my sleep, when I do get to sleep, I find myself waking up in a cold sweat, and my pillow is damp from it. The room is always hot despite the constant rain outside lately, and I'm always upset. Random bursts of anger emit from me every time I wake up to such a scene. But I cannot ever find myself the strength to move on, because I know that's not what she would want. And it feels like I can't even grieve right, because I keep trying to find ways around it, out of it, as if I'm giving up. My head and my heart are pulling me two different ways and I'm tearing apart rather violently.

"Andre, Sarah and you are up!"

I don't hear him at first. I'm lost in my thoughts as my empty eyes watch Sarah go up to the front of the class. In her shortness, she's peering over a few tall but sitting people to see if I'm coming. I snap back to reality when some random person nudges me with his elbow. My feet carry me up there but my mind is back at the desk, back in my car, back at my house, back at Tori's, back in her bed, back in her heart. Her eyes are full, and they remind me of Tori's. They're the same shade of brown, with that same intensity inside. I don't know how we'll start this off. I think I'm just standing here with a blank stare on my face by the look she's giving back, one of confusion, but also of worry. Everything feels so dark. Everything feels so…tiring. Every fluttery blink of my eye and exhale through my chattering teeth makes me wanna just fall to the ground.

There is an awkward silence in the room until I say, "Where did you think I was?"

She starts to compose a counter improve and replies, "I just never see you anymore, John."

"I was just out with the guys from work. Can't I do that every now and again?"

"It's much worse than that, I just…I never see you."

I say nothing.

"What's her name?"

"What?"

"What's her name, John?"

"What the heck are you implying by that?"

She exhales an exasperated sigh. "Is she prettier than me?"

"No one's prettier than you."

"Then why don't you ever come home at night? I lay awake wondering if you're okay, and then I always remember that you do this often and you always say you're out with your friends. And I never know if I should be relieved or bitterly angry about that."

I slam an open hand on the prop table. "I go out and work for hours on end so I can keep that damn necklace around your neck, we can keep this house, and our kids can be happy and you question me with this?" I may have gone too far since I knew Sarah's mother got her that necklace before I even knew her, and to even bring such a personal item into our mock argument was low, and my swearing probably didn't help. But I just can't stop myself. "I try and I try, Sarah, but nothing's ever good enough for you, is it? When I try to hold you and spend time with you, the kids need taking care of. When I try to take care of the kids, you need taking care of, and I can't do two things at once."

"John…what's her name?"

I grab Sarah by her shoulders and fling her against the wall next to us. We stare at each other a while, I can feel her hot breath against me, all shaky and formless. "There is no other. There's only you."

She whispers out a broken, "Liar." And I wind back my left hand and slam it against the wall centimeters from her face hard and fast so many times I've lost count, and she jumps and squeals at every single one of them. She's terrified, and I'm blistering angry, but I can't hold back. I just can't. I turn my head and see our nonexistent children, Jack and Lauren. Two beautiful children stained and tainted by the tears down their cheeks, and it's my doing. Their mother is weeping and nearly broken right next to me, and that is my doing. They fall back in fear at my burning. I can barely see them through my narrowed eyes, but it's all the same as if I had no eyelids. It's so clear that they hate me, and she hates me, and I hate myself for putting them through this. Lauren breaks my heart the most because she flees the room before she completely breaks down. She's seen me yell at her mother, the one thing I promised them I'd never do. I promised them we'd never fight, yet here we are, and soon I'll be gone.

"Lauren!" I shout, extending my arm for her, but she's already gone.

"Jack, go get your sister, tell her everything's alright. And be nice!" I tell him, posing my hands around my mouth because he's already on a sprint. I look back to Sarah who's by now slid down the wall. I put my head in my hand and sigh.

Sikowitz and the rest of the class is in an awed state. Sarah brings herself back to her usual composure and a smile forms on her face again, she's ecstatic on a job well done. But my head is still in my hand, this method acting and lack of sleep is getting to me. I'm so weak and I'm so tired and just…wow. Damn those beautiful eyes as they cried. Damn those astonishing lips as they quivered. Damn her smooth hands as they trembled in fists at her sides. Damn that waterfall of hair flowing down her back. Damn the sound her broken voice made when she spoke, and damn how I noticed. Damn when she told me, "I love you," and I had no answer. Damn her. Damn me. Damn it. Damn it all so much that damn doesn't even seem like a word anymore. It just becomes another jumbled clutter of mess inside my head, confusing me and isolating me from everything. I never expected such a crashing low. God, this feeling…it's like losing the will power to do anything, let alone fight for the girl you love.

"Um…Andre…that performance obviously impressed us. It impressed us, and addressed us. It addressed us that: You're angry, you're frustrated, and you're tired. Your wife is tired herself-nice job by the way Sarah-and she's always quizzing you, of which you don't always have the answers. Nice addition of the kids, too, Andre."

* * *

><p><strong>Tori<strong>

This pillow cannot hear my screams anymore, because my lungs are in my throat and blocking my air waves, but sadly not blocking my anguish. I can't live here anymore. I can't take it. I've a mother who won't put her foot down against an abusive father, and an abusive father who won't treat his family right and is an alcoholic bigot. I need to escape, I need to just…get away. I can't go to Andre because he's better off without me, I can't go to my friends because Andre's sure to be there, I can't go to the police because they'll take Rick away and well, he's still my father. I can't go anywhere, or to anyone. I'm just a malignant disease barred in chains and thrown to the deepest and darkest trench, cast off from the world forever. I'm a curse that's soon to become an urban legend in people's minds and in Andre's heart.

I just…need to get away, even from me. My mind is a meteor hurdling down and without Andre, there is no hero to save me from myself. I believe that in death, I will find salvation, that escape that's eluded me. Or maybe I just need a distraction, and school would be a good enough one, and I find it unfair how Trina can go but not me. Like I said, a prisoner that's believed to harm anything it comes in contact with. And in this trench, so deep and so dark, I can scream into a tear-stained pillow for the centuries I'll lie here, but no one's got the stomach to come and find me. No one has the courage to see their own demons in this darkness to save me. No one sees the benignity inside of me. No one cares except for Andre, and I'm pushing him away. What's wrong with me?

I can hear Rick. He's yelling downstairs again. It's always "new day, old problems" with him. Mom's probably cleaning up the broken glass plates looking through two black eyes and a swollen cheek, even more swollen than mine. I smile as I think of how Andre would hold me and kiss my swollen cheek and swollen nearly shut eye. He always loved my flaws and didn't give a damn what it was. It was never the fact that I sometimes snorted when I laugh or how I usually laughed at things that weren't funny. Well now I find myself not laughing these days, and I usually cry at things that aren't sad now. The door's barricaded, the window shades are drawn. I just want complete and total peace in sleep but I can't even fall asleep. I bet _he's_ the same way…wherever he is. And all I can think about is that letter…I need to write him…I should write. But…I'm a dangerous disease, right? He's better off without me…he's better off.

* * *

><p><strong>Andre<strong>

Language Arts is next on the list. We're studying some old geezer named Countee Cullen or something, was a Harlem Renaissance poet back in the day. The halls are packed with rude, obnoxious kids that didn't learn "excuse me" by their parents as they grew up, obviously. I silently brush and scoot my way past them, and in the blur of kids I see a flash of red. I turn to see Cat talking to a group of guys surrounding her by her locker. That flirt. She's truly unaware of her effect on Robbie. She's always talking to guys. Like, always. But I don't pay them attention as I drag myself to the bathroom. It smells in here, of weed and misaimed piss. I avoid my reflection in the two big mirrors on the discolored, once-white wall as I head towards the line-up of urinals. I look at the idiotic writing on the wall as I relieve myself. I flush and wash my hands. It's now that I realize that one of my friends, Doug, has been having a discussion with me since I've walked in here. Well, I don't think it's a discussion if it's a one-way talk. I don't even know what's he's been telling me, something about the stars? I don't know. I walk to the doorway and discover I'm late, and they've started the lesson without me. The teacher's telling the back story of Countee, and begins to recite one of his poems.

"Your grief and mine, must intertwine, like sea and river, be fused and mingle."

I love this.

"Diverse yet single, forever.."

I _really_ love this,

"…and forever."

I hear a scream from down the hall that I guess no one else heard because no one moved, and I decide that class can wait because I recognize that voice, it's Cat. She's in trouble. I hurry down the hall to see her being bullied by that same group of guys that I thought she was flirting with. I thought wrong.

"Leave her alone," I shout.

One of them comes up to me and lightly shoves my shoulder. "And who are you?"

"Why are you picking on Little Red?"

"Why _not_?"

And really, that's all it takes. I spit in his eye and punch him in the throat. If he dies, I don't care. I have no future anyway. The jerk's friends make their way towards me with ill intentions and I just stand there. I can't bring myself to fight back. I can't bring myself to defend. I deserve this. I deserve all they throw at me. Why? Because I'm me. My arms are down, my eyes are looking dead at them and I don't say a word as they brutally assault me, an elbow to my cheek, a knee to my gut, a punch to my thigh, another punch to my temple. Everything else is pretty much a blur right now, I can't even see anything but black and red. And I think I'm on the ground covering my face, at least I have the common sense to defend now. Little Red's yelling for me to fight back but I couldn't answer her if I tried. Through the mismatched colors, I see someone fighting off the group of bullies, with shocking efficiency. As the broken rainbow haze dissipates, it's Beck I see. He's got a bloody lip and he's holding his limp arm, but he won. I don't know how. Cat and he rush over to me as I cough a storm up. The wind is knocked out of me and I'm pretty sure I've got a lot of bruises. I can move everything though. Cat's run off into a corner and is panicking, and Beck's simply calling for help through the crowd that's finally gathered at Cat's desperate but still shockingly adorable shouts.

It's funny how they think this ice is going to cool me off. It may take down the swelling but that's all it'll do. I've got a line of visitors in the clinic, and I can see police officers out in the halls questioning, interrogating and subsequently arresting. The person by my bedside now is…_Trina_? I nearly spring up from the cot.

"You look terrible, 'Dre," She says sweetly.

I just stare at her with wide eyes.

"Is it the black eye?" She half jokes.

"I'm just…shocked to see you. What is it with that black eye anyway?"

"It's, uh, nothing new. Home, you know."

I tremble slowly, "That means Tori's hurt too."

Her eyes are downcast. "She's more than likely fine by now. It was last night. We both slept it off."

"That asshole."

"Our _father_," She corrects me. But she doesn't need to correct me. I know what I said.

I get up from the cot, the nurse hurrying in from the halls but I wave her away. "We need to bring him down, Trina, now. Hand me your phone, I'm calling the cops. Better yet, go get me a cop from the halls."

"Andre no, that's our dad, okay? That's Tori's and my dad, we can't just give him up. We love him."

"That's a lie and you know it as well as I do."

"Andre..._no_."

I breathe heavily and it hurts my ribs so much. "Fine."

Then I'm going there...

...and I think I'm going to kill him.

**_A/N-Read and Review, _lovelies_!_**


	5. It's the Way She's Staring Back

Chapter 5 "It's the Way She's Staring Back"

It's the way she's staring back with soulless eyes is how I can tell she's dead. I'm trying to find some sort of life in her heartbeat that I can't feel in mine. But no, her heart feels the same as mine as I push down on her with all of my weight. I can't push down hard enough, and I can't blow into her mouth long enough to bring that certain light back into her beautiful eyes. They were once a beautiful brown, but now they're a faded gray, as if she had drowned in a black sea long ago, and I'm now only finding her. I thought I was the only one drowning in this metaphorical ocean, but it seems she was drifting away with me as well, our hands clasped together, and she tried desperately to hold onto me as the sea dragged her away while I mourned over my own emotional demise. And now I wonder just how many people are drowning alongside me, and I just can't see them in the darkness of the seaside fog.

"Goodnight, grandma," I shudder through clenched teeth as I swipe my hand over her face to close those soulless eyes that scare me. They scare me not only because I wonder if she felt the pain of leaving, but if she felt the joy of it too. It must have been quite the last journey, to die alone, in her bed, never waiting for me to get home from school because she never even knew when I was away. To think of what her last thoughts were make me cringe. They must have been how the CIA finally got her, or how the Mole Men finally got her. She probably screamed out my name in this poor outline of a house, and the only thing that greeted her were the scratches from the cats on her door as they tried to get in. I wonder if leaving in your sleep is actually the best way to go, as they say. I don't even know if she _did_ have last thoughts. I don't know if she felt pain, or called out my name in the last moments of her last nightmare. I don't know anything at all. All I know is that it feels good to have these gilded tears run down my face. These precious treasures of gold coating my cheeks with the finest of sorrow, a sorrow I have longed to let go.

I always feared I would come home to a burning house, and maybe now…I would have rather taken that. But seeing her here…like this…I would have rather not found the body, I would have rather not looked her in the eye…I would have rather taken ashes, and funny enough, I find myself trembling on this unsteady seat by her bed. I think I need to call someone, 911 is probably a good choice. Um…shit, I don't know what to do. I just don't know what to do. I don't even know how long she's been here like this. As if God's sending me some kind of sick and twisted sign, my phone rings. I reach into my sweatshirt pocket and pull out the phone. It's obviously not 911. It's Beck.

"Yo, how is everything? I just wanna see if you're alright and all after that brutal brawl today. Also, Trina told me how steamed you were earlier…I just wanna see if everything's cool now and make sure you don't' do something stupid. So…uh…yeah."

I can hear his motorcycle humming in the background after he finishes talking. I don't know how to say it. Do I make it into a joke? Do I casually say it and then say what I'm going to have for dinner? It's just…damn.

"Beck, my uh, my grandma's dead."

There's a long silence and I'm nervous, did I say it with too much aloofness in my voice? All I hear is a muttered, "Jesus," on the other end and a rev of the motorcycle.

"Where are you?"

"I just came from school. Jade's working on some play she wrote and needed my help with some stuff."

I nod my head, but forget he can't see me.

"I'm coming over."

"You don't have to."

"It's alright, bro. I'm on my way."

Before I can object again, he clicks the end button. I wipe the sweat off of my face and throw the phone onto the bed, knocking against her still foot. It disturbs me a little, and I don't know why. I get up and walk over to the fan and I turn it on. It's hot in here and the smell of….warm coldness is filling up the room. It's strange. The cars are passing by outside at all sorts of varying speeds, the birds outside are still chirping, and the construction workers are still constructing the new concrete outside. The world is going on, but the air is so still in here. Why is it so goddamn still? Everything is still moving, everything moves on, but it's my tears that have stopped. How ironic. The automatic steel wall that went down for the slightest moment has rebuilt itself around my heart, but I wonder the point of protecting a dead, broken heart. I have half the mind to leap onto that bed and slam my fists down onto her chest just once more, maybe that last breath got caught on the loneliness since I was…never there. Tori might as well have been her true grandchild. But no matter, she's gone.

I really don't have the energy to answer the vibrating door, or the screeching, piercing wail of the house, but I know its Beck. I head downstairs and open the door so quick it feels routine, as if this house always gets visitors. There's this irregular grinding in the room that breaks the uncomfortable silence. A fly had wandered its curious way into the plastic dungeon trap of the fan, and soon its curiosity was regrettable. I would think Beck would have come and sat down by now, plopping his black, skin tight jeans onto the fuzzy recliner, but he's leaning against the door. He's looking at grandma and he's nearly as still as she is. His hands are in his pockets, and because of the tightness I can clearly see he's making fists. He's angry, as if it was _his_ grandmother who had just died. He hasn't really spoken to me either, except for a few "heys" down at the front door.

"It's cold in here," He mutters as he lights a cigarette. The orange fire that's smoldering at the end of his lips illuminates the room, everything else is gray. I didn't even realize I hadn't turned on the light. It's strange how the room's nothing but a gray light, but somehow I was still able to notice that her eyes were just a little bit grayer.

"It was hot in here not even ten minutes ago. It just got cold quick," I answer him. I shut the window and turn the murdering fan off.

"Also…I was just trying to get rid of the smell."

He walks over to me and we both stand at the foot of the bed, looking at her…sleep. After moments of mute, bittersweet memories that I thought I had lost track of, he asks if I've called someone. He can tell I haven't by my silence.

"We probably should," He says. It was kind of a comedic statement, despite the circumstance.

I can hear some ignorant asshole on the other end of his cell phone as he paces through the kitchen, absentmindedly scouring through the fridge every once in a while out of boredom. I rub a thumb over my other hand's knuckles, listening with haste as if I could make it end faster with just a thought or two. When I first found her, I felt too much, and after I felt too little, and now I don't know what to feel. She was the only family I had, but over the years she became too far gone, and then senility became a bother, and her company became a nuisance. But now I'm realizing just what a terrible grandkid I was. Maybe I'll be able to do for her in death what I could not do for her in life. I'll visit her grave on occasion and spend time with her. It may sound selfish, but it'll be nice to spend time with, and talk to her without her talking back. Like I said, it may sound wrong, but that's just what I am without Tori. She makes me a better boy, a better man.

We barely notice all of the paramedics and police officers active behind us as we sit in the living room and watch TV intently without saying a word to each other. All is slow motion except for the fast cars on TV, and I wish that wasn't true, so I could fast forward past this numb feeling. I rudely allow for a medical examiner to wait for my attention as I continue watching the movie. I know he's there, but I just don't want to talk to anyone right now. I don't even know why he's here. The death isn't suspicious or anything, it's not like I killed her. There's no need for a coroner or a medical examiner or whatever the hell they're called these days. I actually take a bit of offense to it, like I poisoned my grandmother or something? I guess I can't blame them too much. I'm not that good of a person anyway, am I?

"Son, are you alright?"

First off, I wanted to tell him I wasn't his "son", but I didn't. I tell him yeah, and he leads me upstairs. He tells me what was wrong with her; simply "old age" that claims everyone over time. He says that she went peacefully, silently, in her sleep. But he hasn't experienced it; he hasn't died in his sleep before. It's not like it's an experience you can tell about, so how does he know it was peaceful? How does he know it didn't feel like a whirlpool dragged her under and she drowned slowly in that said black sea? Because that's exactly what happened, and I feel like I'm next. I feel the weight of a thorn crown upon my head and the water's spreading a warm red from the wounds. After the business is done, they tell us where we can visit her at the hospital-they meant the morgue-anytime, but since dusk's riding in on its pale horse I don't think we'd have much time allowed there. I sit back down across from Beck on the couch and continue with the movie. We still haven't talked much, and I think that's his way of giving me courteous space, but that's the last thing I need right now. Right now, I need that old familiar feeling of being wrapped up in Tori's glass arms that would instantly shatter if I ever left them, leaving her defenseless. Even though I've physically left them, my heart still supports her fragile, delicate figure, keeping my beautiful glass statue from shattering into pieces. I never understood before what everyone means when they say "Here comes that feeling I thought I had forgotten" or it's…something like that, digressing, that's what I'm feeling. I'm also feeling the bruises throb on my face and ribs again. I completely forgot I was beat up today.

"You can't stay here," Beck abruptly says.

I look over to him with earnest. "I've nowhere to go."

"Come on, bro, you know Cat's got a guest room in her house, and her family adores you."

"Yeah, I forgot about that."

He grabs the remote and turns off the TV. "Do you want to head out?"

"Well, you already turned off the TV."

A grin breaks out on his light-skinned face. That's all I've been noticing, his lighter skin. He's not white, but Tori's dad still treats him like a king. He's the epitome of awesome and cool and accepted, even I acknowledge that. Maybe Tori deserves him, or…someone like him, someone…not like me, different, lighter, better. This is just too hard, for both of us. I'm the reason her dad's beating on her. I'm the reason she probably cries herself to sleep every night, and I'm not even there to hold her when she does, not anymore. In my elite effort to keep everything perfect, everything is chipping away from the idea of paradise and floating down like heavy feathers into that black sea I'm drowning in. Those feathers aren't beautiful, they're black like the sea, and charred, and tainted. Beck snaps me out of my thoughts with a, "Hey, are you alright?" And he can see that I'm not, because tears are flowing down again. That steel wall has been destroyed again, and it actually feels good to cry, that numbness that came like a thief in the night finally has returned my feeling. Beck walks around the cheap coffee table and embraces me in a hug as I cry. I can smell the strong scent of my cologne in his jacket…and I smell Tori's scent in it as well. I bet she held it close and inhaled me, like I'm doing to her now. But I wonder why they were so close when he gave her the letter. The scent is too strong for a normal hug. I mean, I borrowed the jacket for a day, that's how my scents in it. But….her…

Cat's cutting off my circulation, and like Beck, it's as if her grandmother had died. She's holding me tighter than Beck did, and that's saying something. I can smell the strawberry shampoo in her velvet hair. It's a welcoming and comforting scent. It reminds me just what it's like to be around Cat. I haven't really spent quality time with her lately, it's really just been Beck, and I owe it to her. She's leading me inside already and that's when I remember I forgot to pack. How did I forget to pack? But Beck says it's cool as he mounts his bike. "I've got the key. I'll bring some clothes over tomorrow. We can go to the hospital then," And then he's off down the street, the whole scene lighted by the gray sky. Another storm's coming, I can tell.

* * *

><p><strong>Tori<strong>

This house is a cage, and I'm a bird seconds away from getting its wings clipped. The wings define the bird and give it meaning and freedom, without wings it cannot fly away. It cannot escape its chains and bonds. This is the longest I've been downstairs in forever and I'm nervous. Rick's out somewhere and I just can't take it any longer. I need Cat, I need Beck, I need Robbie and that little troll Rex, I need-dare I say it-Jade, and I need…freedom. I put on a pair of worn out, brown moccasins and burst through the door. It's sad how I have to run from my own house like it's Alcatraz. I'm a fugitive on the run. Even though the sun is setting and clouds are grower dark and heavy it still feels good on my skin. It warms me more than my cover, and protects me from the darkness of that house. Another storm's coming, I can tell. I need to get out of here before I go completely insane. I just need to escape. I've realized I don't need a permanent solution to a temporary problem; I just need to run away. I feel the energy of the house sucking me back in, but I won't stop running. I look back to see my mom chasing after me and shouting for me, but I'm going to escape her too. And I'm going to escape Trina, and the house itself. I just need to get away from all of this and be with people who would never hurt me and never sit by and watch it happen. I feel trembling fingers brush the outside of my forearm, barely touching me with its tenderness. I keep my eyes shut as I blindly sprint to the freeing river, away from this land on fire. I hear burning feet chase after me. I feel the heat creeping up along the outline of my neck. Fire's escaping her mouth as she warns me and begs me and all of this other shit I shouldn't care about, but do. She talks of how "Daddy" will be furious and just imagine what he'll do to us and don't I love my mom and sister and how would I feel if he killed them and blah blah blah. A guilt trip should not work on me but it's a chain she's wrapped around my neck and tugged me back into the fire with. I begin to sob as I slow my pace and collapse into the grass. She runs up behind me and bear hugs me, tearing up herself. I feel the heat underneath me and I'm caught on fire once again. My wings are clipped. I'm never to escape, am I?

* * *

><p><strong>Andre<strong>

I'm not really hungry for food, and Mrs. Valentine keeps looking at me curiously. I guess it's the way I'm fiddling with the chunky, pasty mashed potatoes with my fork, which has pieces of peas stuck to it. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Cat occasionally looking over at me, obviously worried. This is a quiet, awkward dinner. I always used to have dinner with Cat's family on certain weekends, and it was always lively and joyous and fun, especially since it's Cat's crazy family. If Cat hadn't told her family what happened while I was upstairs washing my hands it wouldn't be like this. But it's not like I can blame her, of course her family would be curious as to why I'm suddenly occupying the guest room. She thinks I didn't hear her when I was up there, and I don't really feel like talking about it, so I won't address it. But like I said, I can't blame her. I mean, I took a beating for my Little Red. I love her, she's forever family. But this whole peeping thing is getting old, so I meet her eyes the next time I feel them on me, and she nearly jumps out of her seat, shoving her eyes down and stuffing her mouth full of lasagna. I chuckle a little at the sight, because she got spaghetti sauce all over her mouth. She blushes.

"Aren't you going to eat, dear?" Mrs. Valentine asks, taking a sip of her masqueraded drink. She has it in a water bottle, but it's no secret whatever's in there is much stronger. I hear a scoff from her son from across the table.

"Um, I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm not very hungry."

She gets up and takes my plate. "I understand, dear, just please promise to eat at some time tonight."

"I promise."

Cat's gripping my hand tight as she skips into the guest room. It looks like an attic, but a lot more comfortable. I don't think it's an attic though, but even if it is I'll think It'll be alright.

"It's an attic," She addresses.

I smile, and she tilts her head and looks at me with wide eyes. "What is it?"

"Nothing, Cat."

"I know it's pretty small, but it's the warmest area in the house and-

"It's terribly fine, Cat."

She still looks at me with hesitation. I give her a reassuring smile and emphasize, "Really."

She walks over to me and hugs me. It's not as ambitious as her previous hug. It's calm, it's soothing. "I'm sorry about your Gram Gram," She sighs, and I put my hand to her head and pull her closer. It's really cute the way she's pouting. Basically everything she does is cute, but this has a somber tone to it. It scares me to see Cat sad and worried. This isn't like her. I realize I'm bringing down everyone's mood already and it's only just hit eight on the clock, and I found _her_ around four. It's not like I was a ball of sunshine before this, and now...I just need to sleep. I finally let go and I kiss her on the forehead. I bet if I didn't let go first, she would have never. She would have held me until the flesh disappeared from our bones and the world was nothing but a black hole, that's the kind of friend she is. She's one piece of my armor.

She shows me where the bed is, and where the TV is, how to work it, etcetera etcetera. She kind of wavers at the door as I look around, examining my room that I'd be in for who knows how long. I turn my head and turn back, she's gone. I lay down on the bed, moving the extra sheets to the corner of it. I rest my hands behind my head and try to doze off, but instead I get up and leave the room, cross the hall, and check on Cat. She looks out of the window, fascinated by the thunderstorm as if she's never seen one before. Her nose is nearly crushed by how close she is. I walk over to her and put my hand on her shoulder but she doesn't jump, she must have seen me in the reflection of the window.

"The glass is cold, Cat," I say as I pull her away from it.

"Why do you think God cries?"

"What?"

"My Gram Gram always used to say that every time it rains, God is crying."

"Did she?"

"What do you think we did to make God cry?"

"I guess not believe in him, I don't know. No one really believes in him anymore."

"No one has faith anymore."

"Yeah…"

She turns to me, her eyes wide again, they're glistening. "I'm sorry about your Gram Gram, Andre."

"It's fine," I sigh. Her nose is pressed to the glass again, she's looking out there intently at something. I wander about the room and look at her things. She's got a lot of new stuff since I was here last. One of those things is a container of bubbles. I sneak up behind her and untwist the bubble ring from the bottle. I dip it into the soap and blow bubbles onto the back of her head. She giggles and spins around, reaching out to grab the bottle from me. I laugh and stumble back and she jumps on top of me like a cat. It seems almost natural to her, as if she sits right under mice holes and stalks them, and knowing Cat, that's not a bit of a stretch. She loses the wrestling match against me for it so she retreats and goes into her closest and brings out another soap bubble bottle. She blows bubbles at me and I do the same to her. We do this for the longest time as the rain falls and falls and falls outside. Her room's a mess and her hair is frazzled but she's happy and I'm happy. Everything is right and okay at the moment. It may pass as quick as the wind but that's okay, as long as I have right now with a friend that'll never leave. And believe it or not, I think I can feel my heart beating again, just a little….and it's steady…it's steady.

_The sand tastes like the cough medicine I'm always forced to take when I'm sick. Both are disgusting and gross, but this is more humiliating. Daniel Ferrara brings my head up by the hair and crushes mud into it. All of the playground kids are surrounding us and chanting "fight fight fight!" I hate 3__rd__ grade. I hate it. There's nothing I would rather do then go home and just watch TV. I HATE this. No one treats me right, and no one's taught me how to fight. Daniel's been picking on me since the beginning of the school year and now the sand's sticking to my face because of the tears and the nervous sweat and he's just a big bully and just…ugh. I'm laying on my back right now in the sand and woodchips. The sun's blinding me and all I see is sand flying over me. Daniel's kicking it at me. All I see is my grandma snatching the boy by the ear and dragging him away and he's crying. The crowd of bugger-picking, butt scratching kids cheers. I'm not the hero, my grandma is. How she knew, I have no idea. I'm just glad she's here. I'm just lucky to have someone like her. I hope she never leaves._

There's a knock on the already open door, and I turn to see Cat. She's in a pink, short nightgown that ends at the very edge of her upper thigh. It's rather uncomfortable to see her in it. It seems like something Jade would wear, but not her. She hesitates for a moment, but then walks slowly into the room. I get up from the bed and swing my feet over the edge to sit up. It's dark in here and the light's too far away for my lazy self.

"I heard crying," She whispers. I bring a finger to the bag under my eye to feel moisture. Damn, I was crying? And it was loud? Was I awake? Was I asleep? I must have been mistaken thinking my heart was beating again. She starts to walk again and she turns on the light. She walks over as my eyes compose themselves and she sits on the bed next to me, worry in those huge, huge eyes of hers. I see myself in them, and I realize just how pathetic I look. I look run-down and that's how I feel.

"Are you okay?"

I smile weakly at her and answer honestly for once. "No."

She's confused by the contradiction of a smile and a tear, and she asks, "Is it your Gram Gram?"

I look down at my hands. "Partly."

"And is the rest Tori?"

"Yeah, Cat."

She nods her head. It must be just as she thought.

"Talk," She says, with a sudden determination and earnest in her voice. It's brave, unlike when she came in.

Cat must be magic, because all she has to say is talk and I'm spilling my guts. "I just feel lost, you know, Cat? It's like I'm left in the cold on the coldest winter night. The moon's shining down on me for thirty days and the sun won't come out, it just won't. I'm a shell, and as well as that works for other people, it doesn't me. I don't want to not feel anything. I want to feel everything. I want to experience all of my sorrow and pain, and joy and happiness, wear them like tattoos that tell my story of how I lived my life. That's why I haven't done drugs. I don't want to escape that way, that's a coward's way. I want to either escape forever, or confront it and win. But this is a battle I never expected, Cat, and I'm leaning towards escape." I didn't expect it, but I'm crying again, and I realize it this time. Cat hasn't taken her eyes off of me since I started talking. I don't even think those beautiful eyes have blinked yet. She moves her hand to cover mine and she caresses it. Her face is contorted, and I pray to whoever or whatever's up there that she doesn't cry too, I wouldn't be able to take that.

"I think I know why God's been crying a lot lately."

I clear my throat and ask, "And why's that?"

"He's crying because you're crying. He cares for you the most."

"Is that so?"

"Mh-mm. Maybe you're Jesus." She takes her hand and rubs my face. "You still have the battle scars for saving my life," She whines.

I laugh. "I don't think they would've _killed_ you, Cat."

"Or maybe you're just denying being my savior," She whispers, and her lips gently meet mine as she creeps up on me and I fall back onto the bed. Her lips are so soft, and they taste like cupcakes. But this is a forbidden taste. She shouldn't be doing this…what the hell. I try to push her off of me by the shoulders gently but she's so fragile right now I may shatter her with just the tiniest amount of resistance. She's moaning into my mouth, and I'm trying my hardest not to scream, not to freak out. I hate to break such a masterpiece as her, but I push her away and fall back onto my back. Her eyes are no longer their signature wide. They're narrow, and scared, and confused, and I knew I should have stayed in that house that reeked of death.

"What's….what's wrong?"

"Cat…_no_, what-what are you doing?"

"I thought…"

"You thought wrong," I say in shock. It comes out much harsher than I wanted, and she gasps.

Her voice is crackly. "But…but I thought…and you kissed me on the forehead…and the bubbles…and…I've loved you since I…met…"

I close my eyes because that word "love" would have burned them out of their sockets. Not only that, but because I can tell by her voice that the tears I feared were coming. And as if I was talking about the Devil, tears start hitting my face from her hovering above me. "Cat…it wasn't me…it was never me…it was Robbie. Robbie likes you, Robbie does."

"But you're not Robbie."

"You're right…I'm not, Cat, I'm Tori's love, not yours. Robbie is your type, don't you see? Please don't cry, Cat. Please don't cry. Don't you see? We're like brother and sister, you and me, it's not…what you thought."

I look up at her, and it's the way she's staring back is how I can tell that I've broken her heart.

And before I can breathe, she's off of me and out of the door. How can I blame her for walking in here? All she did was follow the trail of my tears and the trail of blood from her heart, telling her what she wanted to hear, telling her sweet nothings. But now she's gone again, like a gust of wind blew all that was right, right out of the door and out of my grasp. I sit up in the bed for a while and then I leave and walk quietly back into her room, luckily her door doesn't squeak. I can hear her sobbing from beneath her covers in the dark, and I begin to shed some of my own in silence. I sneak over to the side of her bed and lie down on the cold, wood floor. I'm going to sleep here tonight, not because I want to continue what was going on in the guest room, but because I'm afraid I'll walk in here in the morning to see her eyes an eerie gray, and the last words I'd have spoken to her were not what she liked. I would never forgive myself. I know it sounds silly, but I feel being in here protects her from harm. I think it's time I be _her _armor for once.

* * *

><p><strong>AN-This chapter was probably the hardest to write so far, and my mood's just down again. But all artist's suffer for their work, right? Enjoy, read, and review!**


	6. Easier Roads

Chapter 6 "Easier Roads"

I wake up to a hot pink sun in a hot pink room. The drawn curtains tint the sun that odd color and it's a rather soft way to wake up. Sometime during the night, Cat made her way down here with me and is cuddled up next to me. She's thrown her cover over both of us and is lightly snoring. I can't help but let a little smile creep up on my face. No matter what I say, no matter how much I hurt her, Cat always forgives me. I never deserve that forgiveness, but I always accept it. Her little spurts of breath hit against my chest as she lies so close. She's holding me tight, as if last night she saw monsters in the closet and came to me for protection. I'm her best friend, so of course I'll protect her. But last night, she had it all wrong. She saw visions that weren't there, apparitions in a desert. But right now, right now is nice. And I'm now realizing, I slept without a problem. I usually stay in a mild, constant state of mania. That way, whenever something goes wrong, I don't feel the pain as if I'd never seen it before. It's not a new, relentless pain, but simply relapse. But I can be calm here. All I've known for the longest time is the feeling of speeding down a wet, dark highway with no end in sight and my brakes cut. I think maybe Cat felt that with me last night, maybe I had shared a feeling only I should suffer from, because I never meant to hurt Cat, or lead her on, or anything. But right now she feels no pain, and right now I feel no pain either. Right now is nice, yeah, right now is nice. But now as her arms tighten around my neck, and she groans sweetly in the embrace of slumber, I can only think of what ifs. What if I didn't look at Cat as my platonic Little Red, what if we were more than just that? I mean…it seems Tori has chosen an easier path with Beck…if she can have another, can't I? I take hold of Cat's wrist and unwrap it from around me. Softly, I set it down on the blanket crumpled up by her head and I promptly got up. I look at her and realize I'm wrong. Tori and Beck don't have a _thing_, thought why was her scent on his jacket? It's just another damn thing to plague my mind. I am just angry, I love Tori, I love Tori, heart and soul, and I know I am her one and only. I am her Andre. I know her, she wouldn't take the easier road. Her father's just…an obstacle, a speed bump. I'm that speeding car without brakes, and she's the pavement, just being trampled over by this hectic situation. And whatever I think of Cat in that certain matter of romance, it would only be to spite Tori and Beck, but who would that really hurt? Only Robbie, and Cat would join him over time. If it's only lust, it's not going to go anywhere, in every single relationship in the world, and specifically, I'm no good for anyone.

I reach down and pull the covers over her a bit more; it's cold in this room. I walk out of her room and close the door until just before that noisy click that would awaken her. I cross the hall and walk into the bathroom. Staying over here so many times, I know where nearly everything is so I grab a towel and wash my face in the sink. My bruises are still on my face but they don't hurt anymore. I laugh to myself at the thought of Cat having some kind of weird magic power of healing. The quiet sound of the running water is soothing, just like everything else in this house. It makes me feel free. It makes me feel safe. There are key things in life which make me feel safe. I'm not really sure what they are, I just recognize them as they pass me by, like Tori, the warm arms of sleep, the fast escape of music, friends, acting, and Cat. It's like frost melting off of a flower under the sun, you wonder if the flower's still going to be there. The frost takes forever to melt and you grow old and die in the process of waiting. I'm done waiting for happy things to come my way, I need to take them for myself. I _am_ a captain after all, aren't I? Going down with my ship? I'm a pirate captain, and pirates, they took what they wanted. I turn off the faucet and head out and down the stairs. It must be quite early, because the house is still relatively dark except for the natural light outside, and everything's quiet except for the scuffling of the dog's feet against the floor. It's ironic how Cat's nickname is "Cat" but they own a dog. That reminds me, Beck and I left the cats at my place…As I walk to the kitchen, there's a dim, yellow light that grows larger as I approach. Mrs. Valentine is looking into the fridge, I guess getting ready to make breakfast.

"Oh, hi Andre, are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Why are you lingering in the doorway, come on in, I don't bite," She says, smiling affably.

I take a few more steps into the kitchen.

"Is there anything you're hungry for?"

"Not..specifically or anything, I was just going to take some cereal upstairs for Cat and me."

"Oh, okay," She stutters, and reaches into the cabinet to take out a box of Cocoa Tuffs and two gray bowls. I think she's used to me coming in with a smile and hungry for plates and plates of pancakes, and sausage, and eggs, and bacon. But today…I just want to eat cereal with Cat.

I go into the silverware drawer and grab two spoons. I get Cat the one with smooth spirals climbing up around the handle. She never eats soup or cereal or anything without that certain one. Mrs. Valentine says good morning to me as I walk out of the room. I turn my head and give her a smile because I just can't stand to talk anymore right now. I hurriedly speed up the stairs, I don't know why, and I hurry down the hallway, trying not to spill the two full bowls, and as I'm going I hear Mrs. Valentine shout, "By the way, tell Cat her dad and me are going on vacation with the Robinsons and Carlitos tonight." I stop at the nearly closed door, resting my back against the wall. I take a deep breath with closed eyes. I'm praying to whatever and whoever that I won't walk in to a gray room and see a tan, beautiful, red haired girl, all colorful everywhere except in her eyes. I almost walk away and back down the stairs if I didn't hear a groan from inside the room, she must be awakening. I walk into the room, and it's no longer a highlighted hot pink. I look around to see Cat drawing back the curtains to let the sunshine in, even though it's still drizzling outside. She moves around drowsily, until she's standing in the middle of the room, childishly wiping away sleep from her eyes with the bottom of her palms like a toddler waking up from an afternoon nap. Sometimes I think I don't know Cat. Her motives are always up in her head. They're always undetected until she acts on them, and then no one knows what to do. It's chaos. When anything goes down and Cat's involved, it's chaos. She sees me and smiles as she stretches her back.

"Hi," She simply says.

I smile and walk into the room. "Hi," I say back, so much for me not wanting to talk.

"Ooohh is that cereal?" She giggles as if she's never eaten it before. I nod and stick out her bowl to her. She grabs it quickly and leaps backward onto her bed, balls of Cocoa Tuffs falling everywhere along with milk. I sit on the floor and set the bowl down in front of me. I look up at her and she's already scarfing down the cereal. I can't help but smile, because milk is dripping down her chin, and she spits some out accidently when she giggles. Some gets on me and she reaches to me as she laughs wildly.

We're both laughing as she giggles, "Oh Andre, I'm sooo sorry!" And I take my bowl and splash the cereal at her. She shrieks as the cold milk douses her. She takes her bowl and throws it at me, but misses. I get up and head for the desk. I grab the near empty bottle of soap bubbles and turn towards her. She yells and tries to escape the room, but I reach the door before she does and I close it with my elbow. I blow bubbles into her face as she stumbles back. And we're enjoying this, we're having fun just like last night. This is one of those "undetected on radar" moments that make me feel safe. I feel loved, I feel companionship. Cat and her family don't see the color of my skin, but the color of my heart, which is a rotting black, and they see that and try to resuscitate it to a healthy red at any cost. Her room's a mess, and we're a mess, but we don't care. We're smiling, we're happy. I know I hurt her last night, but, sadly, that's just what I do. I'm walking collateral damage. Without Tori, I'm rage in skin. Cat knows she means a lot to me, and that last night was the easiest way I could have let her down gently. I mean, I know I could have taken it slower and said my words more precisely, but I was just…scared. Of what, I wish I knew. Cat's brushing her hands through her hair, trying to get out any Cocoa Tuff pieces. I'm just looking at her. She's a beauty, even with mess all over her. And in the strangest, oddest way, she reminds me the tiniest bit of Tori, though Tori would kill me for making such a comparison.

"Hey Andre," She mutters, perking up her head at me.

"Yeah?"

"Don't think I'm mad at you. I'm not anymore," She confirms, shaking her head innocently.

"I know, you came down to sleep next to me last night."

"You looked cold."

"I was," I smile.

"I just wanna say, you and Tori make a beautiful couple. She's lucky."

"Thanks, Cat," Is all I can really muster. I don't know what else to say. "Cat's" got my tongue.

I throw the empty bubble container onto the already messy floor.

"I have a question: why did you come into my room last night? You didn't even tell me you were in here."

I open my mouth to speak, but I fear she would find my reason quite silly and dumb, I sure do. I don't know what it is, but ever since my grandma, I fear for everyone. It really made me realize that everyone's mortal, even Jesus died once upon a time; at least that's what they tell us in the stories. I can't, I _won't _see Cat a still, waxy figure in a coffin, those always wide, brown eyes closed forever under her tan, smooth eyelids. I can't see Tori a pile of grimy ashes in an urn, lying in a corner gathering dust and spider-webs. I just…wouldn't be able to _take_ it.

"Andre?"

A quick gasp escapes me as I look up at her. I didn't notice I was gripping the bed sheets with a deadly vise until she spoke. I pull myself together and try to avoid her question. "I forgot to tell you, your parents are going out of town for a little bit with the…Robinsons, and the…other…family. I can't remember."

"The Carlitos."

"Yeah, them."

"They always go out of town. They haven't taken me since I started that fire in that restaurant."

"What fire?"

She winks at me. "It's not important, what's important is-She jumps up and starts to dance, shooting her finger guns and making a "pewing" sound effect. "House is allllll to us, I'm pretty sure my brother's going to be out with his friends slapping stickers on ice cream trucks!"

"Wait-why does your brother and his friends slap stickers on…ice cream trucks?"

She continues dancing around the room to the music only she can hear. I know she hears me.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, Cat, alright? I'll be back."

She points her finger gun at me and shoots pretend bullets. "Okay, hey look Andre; I'm James…no…JILL Bond!"

The water is warm, not hot, not cold, but warm. I usually _hate_ warm showers, but this time I find it relaxing. I forgot a towel, so I use the soap to wash myself. I rub it over my shoulder, and then my arm. I brush back my soaked dreads from my face and continue. I hate being by myself. I hate this isolation. Whenever I'm alone, this feeling overtakes me and forces me to think such dark thoughts. And every time that happens, I nearly lose myself further along the way of finding my way back. One would think this water washes away all impurities, but I still feel so filthy, not dirty, filthy. I drop my forehead against the tiled wall and let the water at least try. I know I'm not even near clean, but I get out of the shower anyway. I wrap a towel around me and head to my room. It came like the roar of a lion, and the unusual vibration under the house resembled the stride of elephants. Outside there was a man no longer in my irrelevant good graces, or at least was under suspicion. His motorcycle's loud outside, as if he's trying to make his presence known, maybe to warn me, prep me for him so I won't lose my cool and confront him. But no, it's just the quiet of the subdivision that highlights the roar of the mechanic beast, much quieter than my neighborhood. I dry my hair with the towel when I hear a knock at the door.

"Beck's outside," Cat says, pulling on strands of her milk-soaked hair.

"Well, you still have to take your shower, don't you?"

Cat giggles and bites her lip. "Oh my gosh you're right, I do!"

"Then I'll wait outside with Beck until you're done," I sigh as I pull a shirt over my head.

Cat lingers at the door for a while watching me, but before I can ask her what, she hurries off somewhere. I have to elaborately guide myself through this labyrinth that is downstairs. Suitcases and suitcases of clothes are scattered, and the Carlito's children are running around. I guess the Robinson's aren't here yet. They seem too busy to be bothered with me and I don't feel too social anyway so I give them a quick wave, not even stopping, as I walk out of the front door. Beck leans against his bike lighting a cigarette. He squints his eyes when the wind blows the smoke into them. He's holding an umbrella that's preventing the drizzle from putting out the cigarette.

**Tori**

Mom tells me how Rick's out on "official police business" and all I can think of is how much I want to get out of this house, and she's allowing me to. One minute she's begging and pleading for me to stay "for the safety of the family as a whole", and the next minute she's allowing me to leave. She fears Rick. She's the older one, she has training in firearms, there are so many knives in this house, and she fears him why? "The world is only beautiful when there's nothing in it, and things have been in it for a very long time." That's what she once told me, and I knew she was joking. That's when she was happy, that's when I was happy. I haven't heard her true voice in forever. I wonder what she would say now. I take a sip of water from the cold glass, a foggy, ghostly handprint etched into the sides. Trina thinks I don't see her hiding behind the living room wall that connects to the kitchen, looking at me with guilt and moving with twitchy movements. Mom cleans the dishes with a somber but peaceful look on her face. She looks older, not too much older, just…wiser, I guess. She looks like she would be content for the rest of her life sitting on the front porch in a chair and sewing together just about anything. My thumb absentmindedly slides up and down the same area on the glass, the little bulky line becoming transparent along with the handprint. I take another long sip and spot Trina again. I set down the glass hard and I hear her squeak and run off. It's getting really old, reminds me of Cat, she always does stuff like that. I look back at Mom and she readjusts herself on the stool she's on. Her rolled-up sleeves allow for me to see red and contorted marks on her wrists, Rick's handprints. Her left eye is squinting a bit more than her right. I think it's just coming down from swelling. Her bottom lip is stained red, but there hasn't been red juice or wine in this house since February, and she hasn't really gone out anywhere special, so there's no need for red lipstick except for when we have to cover up…our running into wall incidents. I touch my own eye and wince. It still hurts, or maybe it's just my mind. Maybe I'm just emotionally hurt, betrayed, whatever. Maybe everything just hurts, and it's as simple as that. We can't keep going on like this. We can't keep walking around with pounds and pounds of make-up on, masquerading about like dolls soft to the touch. She sniffles and wipes away a tiny tear quick so I won't see. She always tries that, but she's too slow. She's always too slow. She gets up from and scoots back the black stool chair and puts away an ordered pile of plates.

"So, just so I'll know, whose house are you going to?"

I snap my eyes up to her, shocked she said anything at all. "Um…I don't know… Jade's maybe."

She continues the conversation casually as if nothing has happened. "Jade? I thought you two have some kind of feud going."

"I've got nowhere else to go. Cat's probably with Robbie, Robbie always tracks Beck, Beck's virtually conjoined to Jade."

I can see it in her face. She has that "well what about" look on her. She wants to ask about Andre, and strangely, I hope she asks. I want to talk about him. I want to…vent. But she doesn't ask, that look remains on her, but her lips only part when she licks them, and she's back to hand washing the dishes, cups this time. The shade and shadows in the kitchen dance and sway as the sun does its dance with the devil outside, making it ten times hotter.

"Finish your breakfast, dear; I want to finish the dishes here."

I pick up my glass and drink the last of the water. I push the fork into the center of the plate where my half eaten bacon lie, and I take it to her. I don't notice it often, but my mom really is stunningly beautiful. Not pretty, no, that's only on the outside. She's just…beautiful, even looking like she does now, she's beautiful. And I envy her, and if Trina ever paid any attention to any detail about anything _ever_, she would too. We can never be beautiful like her. Sure, we can be pretty and gorgeous and sexy and all of those other shallow and petty connotations, but our insides are torn and ripped apart and it's just…dreadful inside us. Both of us, I'm not better than her and she's no better than me. Mom may not be the strongest person alive, or even the best, but she's beautiful because she tries. That's something I could never do without taking a knife to Rick's brain, because he has no heart.

"Tori!" My mom yells, and her hand shaking my arm reminds me of Rick, and I gasp and drop the plate. It shatters by my feet.

She gasps too, "Stand still, Tori."

I stand still not because she told me, but because I simply can't move. I'm tense, I'm frozen here, I'm careful, I'm scared. She picks up a few pieces and deliberately drops them into the empty side of the sink. She looks at me and sees the glare on my face. "Oh Tori, I'm sorry," She exhales, pulling me into a tight hug. "I was calling your name. It's like you zoned out or something, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I loosen up and hug her back with one arm. I move slow and steady. I can't help it. I just can't go any faster than this. I pat her on the back slowly. I break from her and walk away out of the kitchen. I see Trina crouching at the top of the stairs and I shout out, "How was school, Trina?" She bolts down the hallway and tries to silently close her door, but it creaks up an earthquake. She's not going another day like this. I'm putting this to bed. I run up the stairs and walk across the hall to her room and I knock. "You don't have to keep examining me all day, I'm not mad at you anymore," I say and I put my ear to the door for a response. "It's just…" I sigh, "Why didn't you just open the door, Trina? I needed you then…" She doesn't say anything, I only hear the deep groaning of the bed as she lies or sits down on it. Scoffing, I hit my hand against the door and stomp into my room, where I'm already throwing clothes together sloppily into a suitcase. Blue hoodie, gray t-shirt, mismatched pink and orange socks, red panties, mascara, and an assortment of jewelry. I frantically move around the room, but it's unnecessary. Rick won't be home for weeks, and that'll basically be the beginning of summer. I can relax, but try telling my "abused so is never trusting" brain that. I mean all my mom did was try to get my attention, and I flipped out because she shook my arm? Now I know I can't go to school with rude teenagers bumping into you in the hallways and cutting you off and everything else I hate about that place, but they're not the reason I would go anyway. I grab the rest of my make-up kit and throw it into the suitcase and I pull the lid over and lie on it as I struggle to zip it up. My tender ribs hurt when I do this, and I thought I was better. "Damn," I mutter. I stand there a minute, catching my breath. I sit on the edge of the bed and see if there's anything else I need for the while I'll be gone. I gasp and look under the bed as though I just felt the brush of a monster's claw. I'm looking for that note, and I can't remember where exactly I put it. I can't even say as to why I'm looking for it, it angered me so much and I _still_ can't explain why. I walk across the room to my clothes drawer, and I throw things out until I find it. It's folded neat and precise. If I hated it that much, why did I do this? I grab it and stuff it into my back pocket as I grab the suitcase full of stuff and I walk out of the door. I think about saying goodbye to Trina as I make my way to the stairs but she's not worth my time. Mom looks at me. She gives a smile and I smile back, turning the knob of the door. "Mom, promise you won't nearly tackle me to the ground again," I joke, and that smile on her grows wider. "And Mom?" She looks to me again. "Thanks."

I don't remember the streets being so long to get to the city, even with my car. Everything seems so knew, but nothing definitely is. The neighbors are all the same, nonsocial old generation geezers they've always been, and on the other hand is the new generation celebrity wannabes, their skin tanner than mine, but theirs is fake. The stores all look alike and sell the same things, a celebrity's always around the corner, oh, and the traffic's terrible…everywhere you go. The only different thing I've been seeing is all this rain…it usually doesn't rain like this in this state, not nearly this much. It's actually making it harder to drive, to be honest. I never really like to drive to begin with, the wet roads just make it worse. The sun is high in the sky and the glare is also getting to me. It's like I've been living in a cave trapped inside by a troll for months. Well, that's basically been my life in a nutshell. It's also been a bombshell, and in a fiery blaze, it's affected everyone in my heart. I think I'm breaking the speed limit as well, but no one pulls me over and I don't slow down, not even to be safe. It seems to pay off, because once I reach the ever shifting-and-changing-but-strangely-the-same-city, Jade's house pops up in no time flat. The neighborhood is peaceful and quiet. I drive up into her driveway and park. I get out and breathe heavy as I walk to her front door. My legs are lead and my mouth is dry, but I drag the metal up the stairs, bar by bar, and I swallow my spit. I have to do this, even if she does hate me, I have nowhere else to go. She wouldn't just leave me here on the streets, she couldn't. The echo of the knock pierces my ears with frightening gloominess. This seems like a bad idea, maybe sleeping under a bridge isn't as bad as living with Jade for a while. She looks me in the eye, and she scoffs like it disgusts her. She doesn't say anything to me for a long while as she examines me up and down. Her already hard eyes grow harder and colder the longer she glares.

"It's raining outside, Jade, can I come in?"

"What's with the suitcase?"

I look down at the soaked suitcase lying by me on the ground. "I figured-I thought I could come live with you for a while…"

"You think too much, Tori."

"Jade, it's cold!"

"And yelling at me's gonna make you warmer?"

"Can I come in?" I sigh.

She grins and moves out of the way so I can come in. But before I'm fully in, she puts her foot on top of the suitcase when it reaches her. "This stays," She smiles.

I give her the glare she gave me. "Jade, get your foot off."

"Or what?"

I growl in frustration and let go of the suitcase. It falls from under her foot and back onto the porch where we leave it. She walks in after me and closes the door. I take a seat in the living room while she locks the door. I don't take my eyes off of her until she stares back at me and my eyes begin to sizzle.

"So what brings you to my lair?" She taunts.

"Rick's gone on some police business crap for a few weeks, and I couldn't stay in that house much longer."

"Does he know you're gone?" She asks, standing dangerously close to me. This is stabbing distance, and I know Jade all too well.

"Thank God, no."

"Maybe I owe him a phone call then."

I dart visual daggers at her and she laughs. She's a witch, it's more like a cackle. "Jade, why would you joke like that?"

"I'm not joking. I'm going to tell him you've been out. Maybe he'll give you another black and bruised eye, huh?" She asks, drawing an imaginary circle around her left eye with her finger. I lower my head so she can't see much of me. "Why are you torturing Andre, huh?"

"What?"

"You heard me, Vega, why are you torturing Andre? He's a walking zombie without you, and you know that."

"Jade, it's not really any of your business."

"It's all of our business. It's not like it's a secret what's happened, and it's affecting all of us, Vega."

"I'm not torturing him…"

"If only you could see him, you'd change that last sentence."

"Well I'm not doing it on purpose!"

She laughs and walks over to me. "But you're doing it! And he deserves better than you.

"You're telling me what I already know."

"Then why put him through this entire false hope thing? He's holding on to that last glimmer of hope that you'll be together again. Why not just end that by killing yourself? You're not worth much anyway, let him hit rock bottom."

My mouth gapes open. I can't believe a word of this. "Jade…why would you say that?"

"From rock bottom, he can only go up. He'll finally be able to move on from you once he knows it's truly over."

"What's the matter with you? Are you sick in the head?" I ask with angry hurt in my voice.

"I just want this all to be over and for things to go back to normal, before we all even met you."

"There are other ways for him to "get over me" and suicide definitely isn't the way. You know that, why would you suggest suicide?"

"Because I hate you, Tori, I really do. I want you gone, haven't you gotten the hint all of these years?"

I stand up with balled fists and my face jerked forward. She's face to face with me, though she's a bit taller. Her eyes are burning me but I keep my stance, as fragile as it may be. "Why do you hate me, Jade? I love you, I love all of you guys. You guys are my friends…you don't have to hate me."

"But I do."

I shake my head slowly. "But suicide, Jade? You just told me to kill myself."

"Andre already contemplates what you're arguing to avoid. If only you could see him, you dumb…bitch, you."

I bit down hard to hide a trembling lip. Our eyes haven't blinked in minutes and they're threatening to melt.

"Now fix your face and put down your fists, Vega, unless you're looking to fight."

**Andre**

_Tori glides across the distance like a swan in water. She kisses me softly on my somber lips with her body close to mine. She's breathing into my mouth, and it's reviving me, it's giving me life back. She gasps slowly as she kisses me, her eyes full of something I've rarely seen before. Her nude body is concealed by the fog from the realm of the sea. I only see the eerie glow in her eyes as she lies me down on the surprisingly soft rocks as she continues to kiss me. Her smooth bare-feet bent against the uneven surface, and her soft, smooth legs are two separate stairways to Heaven. Everything is gray, but this gray is different from my grandma's room. It's from the fog, but it still gives me that deathly feel. An unnatural giggle rides the fog's soft clouds across the coast. Next to us lies Cat, who is naked but concealed just like Tori. They both begin to kiss me as the air thickens. The fog grows dense and they fall down on us. The sea burns and it dries up in minutes. What's in the sky isn't the sun, but it burns just like it. Cat and Tori stand and their skin is already halfway off of their bodies. They're skeletons before my very own eyes, falling to the now hard rocks just beneath me. And the worst part is, I'm still here._

I slowly wake up to rain hitting the car window. It was all a dream. They're alive. Sigh. They're okay. The radio is playing quietly and strangely it seems to go along to the pattern of the raindrops.

"Hey, you awake?" Beck asks.

"Ugh, yeah…now I am."

"You had a pretty bad dream?"

"How could you tell?"

"I don't know, just the way you looked I guess."

I groan.

"Hey, you know what a friend of mine once said? She said…uh…'dreams are said to be our greatest desires and our greatest fears'."

Huh, is that so?

"Hey, at least I got to sleep. It's not too often I get that."

"Yeah, I know. So you ready? We're here."

I didn't notice the surroundings. We're at someone's house. "Where?"

"Jade's."

I'm silent for a moment while I think about something. "Do you think Cat's pissed that we left her behind?"

He shrugs and chuckles. "Nah, I mean she took too long in the shower, and besides, you didn't want her going with us to see your grandma did you? You know she would just get all sad again and then hug you until you looked like a crushed car at the dump. Besides, I had the motorcycle when we left. She knew she couldn't fit."

"But you have the car now."

"She'll understand," He laughs.

We get out of the car and head up the porch in a hurry not to get wet. I was about to knock on the door when Beck grabbed my arm overenthusiastically and pulled me down.

"What? What is it?"

"Look inside!"

He lets go of my arm and I crawl towards the window and peer up. There's Jade and…Jade and…they're arguing. I gasp and try to run to the door but Beck drags me down.

"Let me go!" I whisper but shout at the same time.

"I can't do that."

"Why can't you? Just let me go!"

"I've got an idea, a better one than just bursting in there at least."

"Tell me."

**Tori**

It's hard to breathe in here with all of the tension choking me. Jade's sarcastic tone and manner has gone and now there's only anger in her feeling. I feel the same as her. We're both pacing around the room thinking up more insults and fiery time bombs to throw at each other. This is a war between two people who shouldn't even be waging it. Jade…I know she doesn't hate me…she's just frustrated. Andre's her friend, I know. We're all frustrated. A phone ringtone is barely heard from inside the barrier of false abhorrence in the room. Jade walks over to the TV stand and picks it up. I just stare at her. I should be spending this time coming up with sharp words.

She sets down the phone and looks at me deciding on if she even should tell me what's meant for me. I can tell it pains her to say anything but hurtful words right now. "Cat said she's throwing a party over there and that she needs you there ', so go on, get outta here."

I walk out of the door before she can say any remark. I need this party. I take my suitcase and pull it into her house and leave it sitting by the door. We give each other one more look and I close the door.

The house doesn't seem like a party, or at least the parking lot doesn't. Beck's car is here though, so maybe he brought some people in it. As I walk towards the door, I try to see inside the windows. Lights are on, but it…it still seems pretty tame in there. What kind of pin the tail on the donkey party has Cat thrown _this _time? It's not her who opens the door but it's Beck. His face is serious as he looks down at me. I try to figure his deal when I see something…someone I shouldn't. Oh God. I spin as fast as I can and I try to run away but Beck grabs me by the waist and carries me back inside as I kick and scream. Andre grabs my feet to prevent me from knocking anyone out, specifically Cat whose standing off to the side with an innocent look on her face.

"Cat, help me!"

"I'm sorry, Tor, they tricked me!" She whines.

"Beck, don't do this!"

"It's gotta be done, you'll thank me later!"

They carry me into Cat's room and throw me on the bed so Beck has time to run out and Andre has to close the door before I reach them. I'm breathing heavy and looking up at Andre with fear in my eyes. Not fear of him, but just…fear.

Oh shit.

**Andre**

Oh shit. This…this is it. This is what I've been waiting for and scared of for so long. She straightens up and looks at me with anger.

"You look awful," She says, remarking about my bruises.

"So do you."

She walks slowly to Cat's bed and sits down. "Andre…"

I take a deep breath and inhale the way she says my name. It's been so long, and all I can do is take my drug and be on with it.

"I wasn't going to respond to your letter."

"Why not?"

"I never planned on seeing you again."

"You should have known that was never going to work."

"And why not?"

"Because I never planned on letting you go."

She lowers her head. "I'm poison, Andre."

"I'm acid."

'No, no, I'm poison."

"Our love's the cure then."

"Damn it, Andre, shut up and listen," She shouts, standing up. "I'm broken, don't you understand what that means? I'm broken, I'm shattered. I'm a mess, and nothing's going to change that. Not you, not Beck, not Jade, no one. I've tried so hard, Andre, I've tried so hard for you, for us. And what do I get? Bruises on my face? For love? For you?"

"You blame me?"

"I just hate what's happened between us. I hate Rick. I hate many things right now."

I grab her arm. "Do you hate me?"

"I hate everything about you."

"You're lying."

"And you lied when you said you would protect me from anything and everything."

"I didn't break my promise."

"Well 'anything's' been staring you in the face for months now. What have you done about it? What are you gonna do?" She asks with tears in her eyes.

"I love you, okay?" I sigh.

"I just…I can't, Andre, not anymore," She weeps, tears finally overflowing. "I'm done, Andre…I'm done. I've tried, okay? I've tried, and I've failed, and I'm just done."

"Don't you say that, don't you fucking say that, alright? Don't fucking say that," I nearly shout, cupping her face with my palms and bringing our forehead together. "Don't you say that, don't you give up on me."

"I'm broken, Andre! I'm broken and you just don't get it!" She cries.

"Broken things get fixed, broken things get fixed, you hear me?" I repeat, tearing up as well. "You want me to let you go? Is that what you want me to do? You want me to let you go?" She shakes her head yes. "Well I'm not gonna, I'm not gonna let you go. I'm not giving up on you, and you believe that. You believe that." I cry, and I feel like a girl.

"No…Andre. Please, just, just let me go."

She's just looking for the easy way out.

"You're my princess, Tori." I say, looking gravely into those brown stones of eyes. Her eyes grow wide as I say that. They're words she never expected.

She's looking for an easier road to take.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Andre, I hate you."

And her words turn to mush, and her brain must be mush. Her words break down into broken sobs, and then right before my blurry, watery eyes, something in her visibly breaks and she sobs uncontrollably. I pull her into a hug and she continues to break apart under me. No matter how tight I hold her, I can't keep this piece of art from crumbling. I don't say anything to her. I just hold her, just to stop the crying, just to stop the crying. I push her face up gently by her chin and I start to kiss her but stop. We just stare into each other's eyes and then I'm just lost to whatever it was that made me fall for her in the first place. I can't even seem to move as I helplessly watch her break away from my arms and walk out of the door. And there's nothing I can say. There's nothing I can do. She's leaving pieces of herself behind as she breaks apart with every step taken, and they're falling into unreachable places.

**A/N-Read and review!**


	7. Revelations in the Dark

Chapter 7 "Revelations in the Dark"

"Love is a never ending abyss filled with vines, and the farther you fall in, the darker it gets…and you get tangled forever." I remember the phrase now. Now of all times…it's a funny thing. I don't know why it's chosen now to make its way to the front of my mind again. Maybe it's relevant now, maybe I need to start heeding it. All I can do right now is stare at the open door next to me, and how I keep feeling a gush of air blow into me. I'm reliving her escape over and over again, but it's just Cat's fan blowing, papers of her drawings and doodles flying everywhere. The thunder outside makes me jump. I lean my head back against the bookshelf of coloring books and think about her. How she's probably soaking wet out there in the abnormal storm, how she's probably frustrated and scared. She's probably driving erratically, and her car may slip and slide. She may scream, or she may not, but she'll be gone. She'll finally get away from me. It's all she's ever wanted. I hear a door slam downstairs, and instinctively I run out of the room in a frantic stumble. Out in the hallway, I lock eyes with Cat, who doesn't say a word as she looks at me with those wide eyes of hers. I lower my head and walk past her. I'm down the stairs in a few dangerous seconds and I'm looking through the front window at Tori hugging Beck a goodbye before she leaves. I can see Beck mouthing, "I'm sorry", evidently for dragging her up there against her will. I hurry to the door and open it. Tori stops in mid-walk at the bottom of the porch steps, and Beck leans against the railing next to me.

"Is that really it?" I shout into the night air, tension dense and heavy enough to crush us all.

She gives a hesitant half turn. I want to earn that full turn. I want to see her bright eyes in the dark, so I continue. "Are you gonna run? Are you gonna run away from the one trying to actually save you? Is there seriously a wall between us now? You know, I used to be the only one who was ever able to break it down, now you've put it up against me." Beck shifts on the railing, removing his hands from them and letting his back lean against it. I can tell he'd rather go back inside but I'm in the doorway. And besides, he's needed here.

She grants me that full turn, but it's not as glorious as I expected. Her eyes are betrayed, angry, as if I'm the bad guy. But I'm not, I never was. She's the one trying to leave, yet she's angry at me. Her gaze nearly leaves me paralyzed. It's rather stunned me, and I flinch a little.

"I'm tired, Andre," She whispers.

"Yeah? Well I'm tired too! I'm tired of trying, just as you are! But I haven't given up and I don't plan on doing so! Don't you give up on me, ever."

"He'll never let us be together, and you know that."

I step closer as if it would matter, she's still so far away. "Who won't? Your dad…or Beck?"

Beck's eyes raise to me again, and he pushes up from the wall. "Me?"

"Yeah you," I start, flickering my dark eyes between the two of them, "She smelled on you, Beck. Her smell was in the fabric of your jacket. Why was she that close, man, huh? Were you guys kissing, is that it?"

Tori walks halfway back up the steps. Her grip is tight on the railing and she's angry, I can tell. But what I can't tell is if she's crying, because of the rain coming down, the rain that just won't seem to stop.

"Kissing? Kissing? He was comforting me, holding me while telling me to not give up on you, you idiot!" She shouts, and right on cue, thunder sounds, and lightning flashes and blinds us all like nuclear warfare, but this is a different type of war, and it's much worse. I expected her to be gone with the light when the bombs stopped falling, but she's still here, armed and ready to end this desperate stalemate of battle.

"He would be so much easier, wouldn't he, Tor?"

"What are you talking about?" She asks. I look over to Beck and he's trying to be neutral in this war by staying silent between us, but hasn't he learned from history that that's impossible? He'll be dragged in, and someone will fall, always.

"He's not…you know, black. He's just right for you and your dad, huh? Your dad loves him more than you do."

"Stop calling him my dad, and he doesn't _love_ him."

"You didn't object to you loving him."

"Hey wait a minute, man," Beck jumps in. He puts his hand on my shoulder. I grab it and fling it back down to his side. I can't remember if I've ever gotten into a fight with Beck, or if I've ever even been genuinely mad at him, but I can say that nothing lasts forever. Beck retains his calm demeanor but I just can't manage the same as him. My eyes are knives stabbing at him, but penetrating nothing. Everyone is a great big ball of white heat, the hottest of them all, and I want-I need to take advantage of it before it sizzles, shrivels, and dies. I know that once it's gone, I'll have no energy left, nothing to say, nothing to do, and no one to blame. This whole thing has my heart alive again, I can feel it moving, beating deep and true in my cage. It may sound pathetic, trivial, that I want to be angry, that I _want_ someone to yell at, but I can't really be blamed. I have no plans for my grandmother's funeral, burial spot, a death Tori doesn't even know about yet. I even feel myself distancing from my friends, all on my accord sadly. I have nothing, _nothing_, but my drive, my ambition for her, the girl who's looking for higher roads, easier roads. She's the one who's causing the rain, causing the darkening of the city and soon the world, my world, my black hole. I have nothing but my drive for the only thing that's kept me alive, ironically now it's the one thing that's killing me.

"I do love him, Andre, I do. But you know what? It's not in the way you think. I love him because he had given me a short burst of comfort. If he hadn't come over, I don't think I'd be here right now. I swear it." She digs in her pocket and pulls out a note. It's the note I wrote her. "He came to give me this, a letter you wrote me. I didn't answer, obviously, and I wasn't going to. I wasn't ever going to see you again, I was going to make sure of that and I was prepared for it. It's safer and easier for both of us, why do you always want to take the hard way into things? Haven't you figured it out by now that it's going to hurt? You're a bird blindly flying into windows, and one day it's going to kill you. You called me your princess, Andre, and for the split second that you held me, I believed it! But no, no one treats a princess this way." She stops and begins to laugh in taut anger. "You know, Rick called me his princess once upon a time, and look where he lies with me now. You're no better than him, Andre, and I think you're starting to believe that. I may love Beck, but it's the same love I have for Cat, and Robbie, but I'm _in_ love with you. And I hate that, I shouldn't be in love with you, because I'm dangerous for you and you're dangerous for me. We're no good for each other. Look at us. We've both got discolored bruises on our faces. It's not attractive. It's not pretty or cute. That's all we are is volatile."

I really have no words to say, I never do. So what's better than rambling until you say something that actually matters? "And how am I the bad guy all of a sudden? Because I _want_ to make this work? Because I _want_ to make us work? You ask me why I always pick the hard way, what other answer is there besides that things worth fighting for are never found easy. That's why it's called buried treasure, and that's why it's usually found at the bottom of an ocean. But don't worry because I'm already in a black sea called freaking _depression_, so that's a start. Yeah okay, I may have jumped to conclusions on you and Beck, and I would say I'm sorry but where would that get me? Nowhere, it'd get me nowhere." I take a needed breath and search frantically for more words. "And….and…and I love you, alright? I do, I'm in love with you back, but I'm not running from it like you are. I'm not the one who put the bruises on you, _that_ was your father!"

"Stop calling him that!"

"Shut up! You shut up! Because that's what he is! He's your father, and he's an alcoholic mess of a person who's nothing but a waste of space. I should be the one trying to leave. I should be the one trying to get away from _you_ because it's more dangerous for me." My voice softens, and my composure is tired and it shows. "But I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here standing right in front of you in the rain fighting for your love to stay with me."

I just want you.

I only want you.

I need you.

Need me.

Need me back.

"You may not be going anywhere, but I am."

And the desperate stalemate is over. She aims at my heart and fires. The bullet stops inches away from it, but it's still enough to slow it once more, and my words are gone from me, my will is gone, all I have is this blank stare that her lip quivers at, and she walks back down the steps and into the wet darkness, leaving me to ponder a next move that I may not even make. She's so close to my king, and my horses and knights are so far away. That means that no help is coming, no words are coming to pull me from this trench. So this blank stare, open mouth, and still position are my weapons. She's the one walking away but I'm the one retreating. I don't want to. I want to die honorably, but it's instinct, instinct to survive.

Beck runs down the steps and calls out for her, but the night protect her like a mother and spurns us with no replies and no light. He comes back up the stairs and stares me down. The anger that he tries to compose doesn't come. That's just not the type of guy he is, so he pats me on the shoulder and sighs deeply. "This is all one big mess, bro. Sad thing is, I'm not a janitor." He chuckles. "Listen, I've got something that'll cheer you up, get your mind off of her, alright? She'll come back. She's Tori. She's usually like me, calm. It's just stress getting to her, and you know she's under a lot of it." He tightens his grip on my shoulder and pats it again. His lips are pressed into a line and he gives me a sort of look that resembles understanding. He's like a father to me, though he always calls me bro. "Just follow me, alright?" He turns around and walks down the steps. I follow him down, stopping to pick up the letter that Tori laid on them. I stuff it into my pocket and continue on. Through the veil of night, we can barely see anything out here. Which is why it dumbfounds me how I'm able to see Cat up in her bedroom when I look up there. She's just staring, and though I can't see them, I know it's longing in her eyes. I'm sorry, Cat. I'm sorry, but you know the deal now. You need Robbie, not me. Tori loves Beck, I love you…just not in the way you think.

He drives slow, cautious on the roads. The trees surrounding us down the one-way street seem like monsters in the dark. You can't see them, but you know they're there, and you know they're gigantic. The car is silent, but I can hear Beck thinking. He's thinking something big. He's got plans for us tonight, intricate plans. The car speeds up. I can't tell by the blur outside so much as I can the sound of the rain whizzing under the tires. His exhilaration is growing. He's acting like he's taking us to a strip club or something. Maybe that's what would cheer him up in a fight with Jade or something, but it wouldn't cheer me up. I must be wrong, because he pulls into a neighborhood a little ways out from Cat's secluded house. "We're here," He says, stopping at the beginning of the long road down. He gets out and heads to the back of the truck, rustling through the bed. "Come on," He shouts from the back. I open the car door and get out. He walks past me with gasoline and toilet paper. The house he leads me to is alive with the spirit of teenage partying. The street, along with the parking lot, is filled with cars, and luckily, no people to bear witness if Beck's planning to do what I'm thinking. We reach the concrete road leading up to the porch and he sets down the gasoline. Shouting, whooping, and music blast from inside the castle-like house. It stands out from the rest of the houses.

"This is the house of those punks who jumped you." He says, throwing a roll of toilet paper over the roof. "This is a party they're throwing."

"How'd you know this was going on?" I ask and he hands me a roll instead of answering me.

"Just throw and enjoy it."

We chuck the dozens of rolls for minutes until the house has a brand new coat of white. "Stay here," He whispers to me as he goes to get the gasoline. He comes back and begins to pour the jug all over both sides of the lawn. He runs back to his truck and comes back with more and continues his process. I just stay back and watch him do his thing until he hands me a jug.

"Join in."

"What?"

"You heard me, let's have some fun."

We're pouring and pouring and pouring. The lawn begins to choke and beg and plead, but salvation does not come. It's sick how much I'm enjoying it, this sweet revenge, but honestly I don't care. Beck crouches down on the concrete and takes off his jacket. He makes a sort of tent around his hands as he pulls out a match and runs it across his thigh. He looks at it for a short time and then flicks it to the lawn, which catches on fire instantly. He lights another one and flicks it behind me, where I can feel the heat rising and growing. Even in the rain, these two separate fires burn in the night. "Now it's a party," Beck laughs.

"You almost caught me on fire!" I shout, and he laughs and pats me on the stomach as he runs away.

"Jet!" He warns me and I turn around to an open door and angry, preppy punks.

We run for a long time. With no time to get in Beck's ride, our feet burn and seem to melt into the ground. Our legs are jelly but our exhilaration is ten times what it was. So we keep on sprinting. He yells something to me about them not messing with me anymore or something like that, but I can't hear with the blood pumping in my ears. Beck laughs mischievously to himself as we climb as many gates and run as many blocks as I can count on my fingers and toes. The whole thing makes me forget about Tori, if only for a second and for that second I'm free, but when she comes back and throws a rope around my waist, I feel jerked back and restrained. For a moment I contemplate stopping and letting myself get wrecked again, but I know Beck would stop and help me, and that wouldn't go well for either of us against a mob. Beck turns a corner and jumps blindly over a gate. He tumbles down a grassy hill he didn't expect and lands in shallow water. I jump the gate but more cautiously than he did, and I tumble less. He chuckles off his pain as he holds his sides.

"That was fun," He sighs.

"For you."

"You can't say that wasn't fun."

"It wasn't fun." I mean, I'm still trying to catch my breath.

"Liar." He winks and he's off running again, less fast this time.

Back at Cat's, Beck's going on about how they're probably trashing his ride right now, and how glad he is he has a motorcycle, and how fun the whole thing was, and how I can't deny it. I admit, it was pretty fun, and it felt good to get back at those assholes. He gets a phone call by the time we reach Cat's front door. I knock, and I can hear Cat's tiny footsteps coming down the stairs. When Cat opens the door, I walk in but Beck stays outside for the call.

**Tori**

Staying under Cat's backyard porch stairs wasn't the greatest idea. But it's really my shelter for the night. I can't go back in the house, can't do back home, and definitely can't go back to crazy ass Jade's place, lest I wake up without lungs or something there. And at least these stairs keep the rain away. I wish Andre could stay under here with me tonight, but I know that's a fantasy. With what happened tonight, I doubt he'd ever want to see me again, but that was the game plan…wasn't it? It _is_ what I wanted…right? He's better off this way. He's better off without me and my crazy family ruining his life, I know that, so why is there this twisting feeling in my gut? And why does it hurt so damn bad? It's hard enough convincing myself to hate him, but it's twice as hard trying to make him hate me. He knew it was a façade, a lie, a cheap parlor trick. That's why I'm an actress and not a magician. If I was, I would have made either myself or this problem disappear, with no "magic" door to bring me or it back. Beck comes around the corner, talking to someone on the phone. I can tell by his voice that it's that witch Jade. It's strange how I can always tell who someone's on the phone with by their voice. I try to crawl farther under the stairs to avoid him seeing me, but it's no use. He double-takes, and then he says goodbye to Jade and walks over to me.

With a big grin on his face, he says, "Hi."

I try to hide my face under my hair. "Hey."

"I knew you weren't gonna stay too far from Andre."

"That's not why I'm under here."

"Yes it is." He smiles. "You're only fooling yourself."

"I've got nowhere else to go tonight."

"Well, you can come to my place."

"The RV? Us alone? Thanks, but no thanks. Andre would have even more reason to not trust us, and we all know Jade never trust you, let alone me."

He laughs. "That's what she was calling about, actually. She was seeing where I was. It's no biggie though, I love her."

"I know."

"And you love Andre, so you can always go back inside."

"I can't, Beck, please stop suggesting that. Isn't there somewhere else I can stay?"

"Listen, you can stay in my RV. I'll just go to Jade's, sound fair?"

"Sounds fair."

"Good, now come on outta there." He says, grabbing my hand and helping me out from under the stairs.

"Are you angry at him?"

"Nah, I know what he's going through. He can blame me all he wants, but he doesn't believe what he's saying."

"He seemed ready to fight you."

"He knows he's not stronger than me. I wouldn't have fought him anyway, like I said, I understand his feelings. Jealousy's a terrible thing, also. Why do you think Jade's eyes are green?"

I laugh intently, so transfixed on his words. His jacket covers me from the rain above, but I can't help but feel bad, he must be freezing. We talk about all sorts of stuff, stuff that won't even matter days from now, but it's comforting and freeing. All I want is to be free, that bird I've always envied. Our talk is interrupted by Beck grunting and falling to the ground. I'm grabbed and thrown down as well. Beck is kicked by a group of random kids, shouting and cursing at him. He throws wild punches in the blinding night, and I think he connects with a few before he is beaten back down. I see flashes of muted color every few seconds, red coat, blue scarf, white knuckle on a fist, and then the night is back and covering everything and the rain fogs even more. I close my eyes and pretend this will all be over soon. I draw into myself, bringing my knees up to my chest and locking my arms around them. Lying on the cold, wet ground is the least of my worries. I just hope Beck is alive by the end of this nightmare. God, I wish I could do something, but I'm just so scared. Beck yells into the night, and that only fuels my fear. I keep getting told to shut up by the attackers as I cry and weep for Beck. His yells get more desperate rather than angry after a while. He's losing. Through his broken words he tells me to run away, but I won't leave him. If I can't physically help, I can at least stay with him until it's all over. Now there are more screams, more thuds, and more danger. I hear the sound of metal hitting skin, metal hitting metal, I just hear all sorts of things that make me want to throw up just thinking about Beck's limp body. Oh Beck…oh God. I'm afraid to open my eyes, I'm afraid to do much of anything but lie here in my own darkness and pray. But I do, much to the dismay that I can't even control my own body. I can barely make out who they are, but it's Beck and Andre standing amongst the sea of attackers. They're holding pipes and finishing off the assailants. What the hell? No, no!

"What are you doing, Andre? Get the hell out of here!"

"What? Wait, what?"

"What are you doing here? You could have gotten hurt!"

"I just saved you and Beck!"

"But you could have gotten _hurt_, you idiot!"

"Now you care?"

"I-I always cared you idiot! That's why I needed to hate you! I just wanted you safe, that's all I've ever wanted!"

"Tori…"

"You shouldn't have come! You could have been seriously hurt!"

"If I hadn't come, Beck would be a lot more dead than he is now!"

**Andre **

But she's gone before I can finish talking. I throw the pipe in anger across the darkness. It lands so far away I can't hear it when it lands. Beck slowly and painfully bends over to pick up his jacket. I can tell he's in tremendous pain. I can't really see him, but I'm sure they beat him worse than they beat me. But he held his ground and protected Tori as much as he could, and that's simply Beck for you, the best guy around.

On Cat's porch, Beck lies on the ground on his back, resting. I pull out a cigarette and light it, taking a puff and blowing it into the cold dark. He turns to me and weakly chuckles, "I thought you didn't smoke." I don't answer.

After a little while I flick the cigarette away and step over Beck. "I'm heading inside, see what Cat's doing."

The inside of the house is quiet and calm. Cat must be totally enjoying her parent's being gone. I try to wrap my mind around that just to get it off of everything else that's happened this turmoil filled night, but I can't escape the chaos of it. So much has happened in such a short time, yet I feel ages and ages older. I find my way to the stairs and walk up weakly. I guess those guys beat me up pretty bad as well. "Cat?" I ask quietly, looking for her. The bathroom door is creaked open and I walk over and peer inside. Cat is naked standing by the shower. She dries her arm with a towel. Her tanned skin is a beautiful, bare canvas, so soft even to the eyes. And just looking at her, taking her in, it makes me feel like I'm drinking from the purest river in an exotic world that I'll never visit again. In fact, after even seeing such a place, I'd be forced to gauge my eyes out, one by one. Because it's paradise and it's forbidden and a sinner such as myself, a demon so set in his ways as myself…should never lay eyes upon. She looks at me and gasps, but she does not pull her towel to her body, she does not yell at me, she does not walk over and close the door. She just stares at me, and I just stare at her, desperately keeping my eyes on her eyes and her velvet hair. But I'm not an idiot, I know she wants me to look at more than just her eyes. I hear a voice behind me say, "Hey Andre you left your lighter on the porch and Beck told me you were inside." I turn around to see Robbie's anguished face, his tearful eyes dancing from Cat's glistening, nude body to me, to her…to me. He tightens his fist and slugs me in the face. My body hits the wall behind me and I stumble to the ground unevenly. Cat throws on a robe and runs to my aid, bending down to check on me.

"Robbie, what's wrong?" She shouts at him.

From the bottom of the stairs he yells, "I hadn't known you were such a whore!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Go to hell," Robbie's puppet Rex yells from under Robbie's hand.

"What's going on?" Beck asks, showing up.

"This doesn't involve you," Robbie warns.

"Yeah? Andre's up there with a busted lip, I think it's my business, Robbie."

"He said it doesn't involve you!" Rex shouts before Beck rips him from Robbie's hand.

"Hey!" And then Robbie swings on Beck, but Beck grabs Robbie by the arms and pins him to the wall.

"I may be injured, but I'm still stronger than you. I'm not asking, I'm not negotiating, I'm usually calm and reasonable, but it's been a long day, so calm down or leave."

Robbie wiggles free and storms off with tears running down his face and anger running through his veins.

"Damn this," I mutter, holding my cheek and lip. I hurry down the stairs and out of the door, despite Cat shouting, "Andre, wait! Please!"

"Please."

The house is just as I remember it, gray and lifeless. I miss my grandma, that's all I can really think to say right now. The cat's are alright, and I feel terrible for forgetting them. I strain to lift my arm as I open the cupboard to get them ood. They crowd me as I pour their food into their bowls. Strange to say I missed the little buggers. I head up the stairs and stop at my grandma's room and look inside. My breathing stops and starts erratically now. I try to hold back tears, and I hold out until the urge dissipates. I take a deep breath and walk into my room. I don't need to even turn on the light to know that Tori is asleep in my bed, snuggled up in my covers, and I'm now noticing that the door wasn't locked when I walked in. She's so peaceful and I don't really know what to do. I think of Cat, I think of Robbie, of Beck, of the preppies, of the rain, of the darkness of the night all once more, and then I only think: Tori. I walk over to my record player and play our song, the song that played our first date together. I slowly make my way over to her and grab her hand gently. Without a word, she awakes and gets up from the bed. I take her hands in mine and we begin to dance slowly. Her head rests on my chest as we sway around the dark room. She looks up at me every once in a while and smiles contently. Finally I feel at home once again, and I think she does too. All of the pain, the confusion, it's all gone. There's only her, and there's only me. She doesn't ask about my grandmother, she doesn't say anything, and I like the silence. It feels like I'm reading her mind, and it's a beautiful mind. It really is. She's my princess, I'm not a knight, and I'm not a protector. I'm simply a boy in love. She cries, but it's not out of sadness. I know this because I cry too, and I do it out of happiness. It's that feeling that I felt before all of this, that feeling of home.

That feeling of home.


	8. Anything and Everything

**A/N-This is a very dialogue driven chapter.**

Chapter 8 "Anything and Everything"

She's nothing but porcelain skin, and I swear I can see her heart through her chest. It's glass and it's fragile and it's beating so fast it'll shatter if she sighs. She kisses me slow, scared, as if she was hurt a long time ago in a land I never had the blessing and the curse to visit, if only to ease her pain by burning it to the ground. And with every kiss, she knows that I love her enough to do just that, burn her pains and woes to the ground. She tries to kiss me softly, with precise pecks and painstakingly tedious embraces, but I pull her close and kiss her like we'll never see each other again. I've learned to treat every day with her like that, like it's our last together forever, until the sun burns out. She gives herself to me, and I take her wrist in my hand. It's so skinny. It's so fragile. She wants me to make her into a masterpiece, to mold her into perfection with my hands, but I don't want to. She's perfect in her imperfection. It's as simple as that. She wants me to do everything. She just wants to disappear, not to escape me, no, but to escape everything else _but_ me. A bunch of words escape her mouth in quick, worried mutters. I can't understand her, so I pretend they're all muttered "I love yous" and I leave it at that. I lose my hand through a sea of brunette hair. I close my eyes and imagine myself back in that black sea I've known as a mentor for so long. That sea and the darkness have taught me how to survive from intense emotion to no emotion at all. It's taught me how to withstand the allure and glamour of death and the mystery it brings along with it, and how to live without an actual, beating heart, but being here with Tori, and for once at peace with her, for once at home with her, she's rescuing me again just as she always used to. I'm simply a boy in love, and she's not only my princess, but it looks like she was the knight all along, always saving me and only letting me think we were saving each other, because that's what lovers do. As much as I owe to that black sea and the darkness accompanying it, it's time to leave from one home to another. Tori's pulling me by the hand from the sea and everything is illuminated. I can see the world clearly, without the blur and distortion of black. I can see her and her beautiful, brown eyes, and her love. I can literally see the love in her eyes. She's so sad, she's so happy, she's so enlightened, yet she's so confused. I can feel her every thought through her motions. She's twitchy, she's held back, but she's trying, trying to hold me and embrace me without getting that feeling of fear, that feeling-or rather memory of her father catching us again, only kissing, just holding each other. Her eyes are fireflies in the dark, glowing…glowing. She's afraid to touch me, she's afraid to lose herself to the darkness of the room, because she feels what I can't, she feels the smoky breath of a dragon heating the back of her neck, always.

She lifts her shirt over her head and it disappears once it parts from her. She leans back down over me and kisses me, even more timidly then before. She stops without reason, ponders something, and then rises. With glossed lips, she kisses from mine, across my cheek, and to my ear where she whispers, "I can't do this. We can't do this." And I think it comforts her in a way that I understand, and my reassuring kisses make her smile, though I'm sure she feels guilty nonetheless. She sits on the bed a while longer, fighting with something in her mind, and then she scoots her way off of the bed and into the darkness. I think she's searching for her shirt. I can hear her shaky breath, and I bet a trembling body accompanies it. I want to tell her that he's not here, that it's only her, me, and a couple of emaciated cats downstairs. I would say these words, but I feel if I'd talk, I would lose the taste of her lips. Cat finds herself back into my mind, and how she was more than willing to give herself over to me, more than willing to give me everything, but Tori struggles with herself and her thoughts and her demons. She wants to give me what she thinks I want, but to be honest, it's not at all what I want. I would be content just to watch movies or something with her while she snuggled into me and fell asleep to me rubbing her arm, stroking her hair. Maybe that's the difference between Cat and her, one has a pretty good idea of what I want from her, and the other only thinks she knows what I want from her. She finds her shirt and tugs it over her head violently and quickly, as if it's some kind of life jacket and she's on a sinking boat, not ship, but boat. I hear the creaking of the bed as she makes her way back over to me. She rests her head where my neck and shoulder meet.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Not going along with…well, you know."

"You know you sound stupid apologizing for that."

"It's dangerous…me even being here, I mean."

"You saw what happened last night, I'm well acquainted with danger."

"Oh, are you?"

"Hey! Don't laugh! I'm serious."

"Yeah…yeah you're a _real_ warrior, Andre."

I look at her for a while, a smile on my face.

"What is it?" She smiles back.

"I would fight anything for you, you know that?"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Would you fight lions?"

"Yeah."

"Would you fight…tigers?"

"You know it."

"How about bears?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my."

I laugh and rub her arm up and down while her hand rests on my chest.

"What wouldn't you fight, huh?"

"I would fight anything for you. That's why I don't understand why you were so willing to give up."

She stays silent, but it's a comfortable silence, so I fear nothing. I still apologize anyway.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Would you fight dragons?"

I sigh and smile. "I would fight God for you, baby."

My shower is long and peaceful. It's much different from the one I had over at Cat's, because I don't feel dirty, or filthy, or any of that. I feel clean and purified. It's beautiful to feel this way. I hear the birds singing a morning tune outside of the bathroom window, and I realize that everything seems like a fairytale movie, and this is the expected but still fantastic ending. Unlike Cat's shower, I actually enjoy this isolation. It gives me time to ponder how bad things were, and how good things are looking. The change in tone all happened so quickly, but I'm not complaining. All that matters now is that I have Tori back, and I'd fight anything and everything for her and only for her. I've heard that people last longer through life, and they fight harder for it if they know they have a person out there loving them like no one else does and like no one else can. I put my head under the nozzle and wash away the shampoo in my hair. It gets into my eye a little and I flinch, but it's nothing to cry about. I turn off the water and grab a towel to dry my hair and wrap around my body. I leave and head down the hall. It's here, at the top of the stairs, that I realize that everything's still taped over with police tape. Last night I didn't even realize that I ripped off the tape to my grandma's door to look in, or that Tori had ripped off the tape blocking the stairway. My house is a crime scene. I try to bury the protruding memories as I head into the kitchen, making my way past the cats. The refrigerator still has the orange juice that my grandma….the juice that she loved. My hand sits on the top of the jug as I think about her…but trying my hardest not to. I grab it out of the fridge and close it. What I also realize is that I haven't turned on any lights the whole time I've been here. I guess I want to keep the house the way it's been, at least for the most part. I want the house to remain the same, like a museum always stays the same, or a grave. For some reason I feel nauseous drinking this. I don't know what it is, but drinking it makes me want to vomit. It's never done that before.

I hear the badly strumming of a guitar on the porch when I walk out. Tori's sitting on the porch chair strumming the guitar I had up in my room. She's wearing one of my shirts. It's too big for her, and one of my summer scarves around her neck, even though it's not that chilly. It's actually rather warm and clear out.

"You're terrible," I say as I sit on the floor next to her.

She looks down at me and sticks her tongue out. "I never said I was as good as you or Beck."

"That's for sure."

"I can sing though."

"I know you can. Just don't do it now, it's too early."

"You don't think the neighbors would love my singing?"

"I know the neighbors wouldn't love your singing, not this early."

She scoffs and continues plucking at the strings with her fingers.

"You know you're chipping your nail polish doing that."

"Does that mean I'm holding it wrong?" She asks, grabbing the guitar from the bottom and inspecting it.

"Why are you out here anyway?" I laugh, folding my arms over my legs.

"I wanted to see the sunrise. Are you going to stay and watch it with me?"

"I guess so, scoot over."

She gets up from the chair and lets me sit down, and then she sits on my lap and reaches over to grab the guitar again, but I stop her. "I think you've done enough playing for now."

"Whatever," She sneers and she takes my arms and wraps them around her. "Did you know school's having prom soon?"

"Our school doesn't have prom."

"I talked to the principal a long time ago and he agreed to it. It's called Prome."

"Oh, I didn't know about that."

She brushes under her eye with her fingers. "Yeah…I think my bruises are healing up enough for us to go. That's, of course, if you want to."

"Yeah we can go. It's no big deal, Tor. You went through all of the trouble of making it and all."

"I'll only go if you want to, not just to make me happy."

"I do everything to make you happy."

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to lose your individuality for a girl?"

"Whatever," I say, mocking Tori's earlier words.

She hits me with her elbow and I grunt. It really did hurt. Even though her eyes watch the sun, I can't help but have my eyes on her. "Do you know when your…when Rick gets back?"

"I don't know." She looks back at me slowly and then turns away again. "But I'm willing to take the risk."

"Tor….why, uh…why are you so…lovey-dovey now but less than a day ago you were trying your hardest to get away from me?"

I already wince at the question. She still looks at the sunrise, her lips are slightly open and I think she's trying to form words that just won't come. I look at her attentively but after a while of silence I begin to realize that the door of closure is closing without anyone even being behind to push it.

"Never mind, Tori, um, sorry I asked."

"There it is, do you see it?"

And there it was: the sun. The wondrous sun. It marked a lot of things, but mostly that a new day was finally starting just over the horizon. I take her gently and sit her down in my place.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't worry; I'll be right back, okay?"

She looks at me curiously as I reenter the house. I just want something to eat. I'm starving. But then I see one of the cats on the table in the living room and I go to take it off. "Jellybean, you know you don't belong up there." I watch the cat scurry off to the basement and I turn around to tears blinding my sight. I crouch down and lean against the glass table, trying to fight off my sobs. Damn, damn, damn, damn. Tori wanders into the kitchen and sees me, she hurries over and puts her hand on one of mine on the table.

"Andre, what's wrong? If it's because of what I said…or didn't say out there then…"

I interrupt her by handing her a silver necklace with an engraving in it that says _To Andre, no matter how loco I go, I'll always love you, my dove._

"What is this?"

"My grandma gave it to me long ago, when I was…when I was a little kid."

"What happened to her, Andre? I haven't seen her lately…"

"She, uh, she died."

She gasps and nearly drops the necklace. "What? When?"

"I don't…I don't remember."

She rushes in and hugs me tight.

"How'd it happen? I can't believe I didn't notice all of the police tape. Where's my mind been?" She asks me in my room.

I run circles on her pant leg with my fingers and say, "She was just sick, you know. You know how bad it got to be. And don't worry, no one's blaming you for not knowing. I'm actually glad you didn't ask for a while."

"Yeah…tell me about your dad, Andre."

"What?"

"Your dad? Tell me a little about him."

"I would but…you get this certain look on your face when we talk about deep things sometimes, it hurts to look at you then."

"Then don't look at me just-just stare in front of you if that helps."

"My dad…where do I begin? He wasn't too old when he died. Car accident, he was drunk and it was night. He had, uh, he and my mom had been separated for a while, and I was staying with her while he was staying at a friend's or a hotel or something, I don't know, anyway, he had decided that it was time for him to come back home. Mom wasn't having it, obviously. They got into another fight, neither knew that I was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at them. They just argued like sharks. You know how sharks go blind when they attack? Whenever my mom and dad spoke it's like they went blind and they just spewed the nastiest, angriest things that they could have ever said to each other, completely blind to each other's feelings. I didn't understand it then. I don't understand it now."

"I'm sorry."

"But you know something peculiar? Out of all the bitter things that they said to each other, the one phrase neither used was, 'I hate you.' Out of all of the curse words, death threats, out of all of that, 'I hate you', was never uttered."

"What do you think it means?"

"It means the drink made my father a devil. He wasn't that way before, and it means my mom saw hope in him. She always did, no matter what she said and no matter how many times she kicked him out."

"I think drinking makes my dad an asshole, too."

"Your dad hates blacks sober or not. He's just generally an asshole; the drinking just makes him violent."

I look at her, and I see that certain look that tears at my heart. I rub her cheek with the back of my hand. "Just look at what he did to you."

She takes my hand and kisses it. Taking the necklace in her hand, she brings me around my neck and clasps it. "You're a real warrior, Andre, and I say that without sarcasm this time."

"Thanks, Tor. Let's get out of here for a while. This place is gonna be the death of me."

And for some reason that Countee Cullen poem that I had overheard in school comes to mind. Tori's grief and mine does in fact intertwine…our alcoholic fathers fused and mingled in darkness darker than an abyss in a sea and river, diverse yet has the same affect on both of us…changing us forever and forever. No wonder I loved this poem. It describes everything.

* * *

><p>"Open up!" I shout, knocking on Beck's RV door for the seventh time.<p>

"I don't think he's here."

"I'm too lazy to check anywhere else."

"Come on, let's go."

She runs off ahead with me far behind. I can't help but look at the house right next to the RV. Beck's parents aren't deserving of him, they really aren't. To have a kid with a good head on his shoulders is rare nowadays, and they take him for granted. They won't even let him into the house. They treat him like he's a dog or something. He's not a pet, he's a human being, and he's their kid, and he's better than them. I wonder if he sometimes gets the urge to burn down that mansion like home, I know I would if I lived less than fifty feet from it.

"Come on!" Tori shouts from the car.

I pick up my pace and head towards her. I get into the car to see she's already turned it on, and the radio too. While we drive, she looks out of the window at the passing scenery. It's nothing new to her, she's been down this way a thousand times before, but through the reflection of the window I can see the concentrated look in her eyes. I can barely focus on the road; I keep looking at her too much. I want to know what she's thinking. I want to know what's in that head of hers, but for some reason I stay quiet as usual.

"What are you going to do about your grandma?"

"I don't know."

"Where is she?"

"Some morgue in a hospital downtown."

She can tell I want to change the topic of the conversation. "I love you, Andre. Know that, okay?"

"I'm sorry for accusing you and Beck. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't. No one thinks when they're angry and confused. That's why it's called _angry and confused_. I wasn't thinking either. I just wanted the pain to stop, you know? I just wanted everything to stop and give me time to rest, and I guess I was mad that nothing did. Nothing did stop for me, and that made me so mad. I was just…I was angry and confused too. I guess that answers your question. I'm messed up in the head and I just wanted out. What I wanted then isn't what I want now. What I wanted five minutes ago isn't what I'll want three from now, you get it? I'm indecisive. I'm finicky. Maybe even bipolar, but can you blame me?"

"We both wanted out, just in different ways. Don't ask me to describe to you all I've been feeling over the last few months, because it's an indescribable feeling, and none of it is good."

"I'm glad you decided to stick around," She sighs, putting her hand over mine on the gear. She knows the indescribable, despite what I think. She's Tori. She knows me, all of me.

"I'm glad you did, too."

We pull into Jade's driveway, and Tori snatches her arm away.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're acting like I just ran over a dog or something."

"It was just a bump in the road, that's all it was."

I turn off the car and get out. "Are you coming?"

"No, no I'll stay in here."

"If Beck's here, I'm gonna be a while."

"I can wait."

I sense there's a problem with us being here so I leave her in the car with the window down. I walk up to the porch and knock but Jade's already opened it by the time my hand raises and I'm pulled in by the shirt.

"It's good to see you, Andre."

"You too, Jade."

"You seem…happier."

"I am."

She peers out of her curtain. "Is Tori out there?"

"Yeah."

"You two…are together again?"

"Mhmm."

"Oh…"

"Hey, man!" Beck laughs, patting me on the back. He looks as bad as I do after our brawl with those goons yesterday. "You don't look too bad, bro."

Liar. "Neither do you."

"What's up?"

"Nothing, Tori and I just wanted to hang. She decided to stay in the car though."

Jade takes a small sip from her drink and walks away.

I proceed to walk off before Beck grabs my shoulder and spins me around. "Hey, I just wanted to say that Robbie's here."

"No sweat."

"Cat too."

I pause. "No sweat."

"Alright, just warning you."

I actually am grateful for the advice, because it's about time Robbie and I talk. I head upstairs to find him, and he's standing outside of a closed room, where crying can be heard from outside. I call out to him and he doesn't flare up, but he actually deflates and waves timidly at me.

"Listen Robbie, about last night…"

"If you're about to apologize, then I'd call you crazy. I was the jerk last night."

"Cat's just confused."

"Confused and angry now, it seems. I just came to apologize and she got all sensitive again and locked herself in the room. Jade and Beck are down there pretending nothing just happened, but that's them for ya."

"What'd they say?"

"Well, Jade took Cat's side, obviously, and Beck just told us to take a few minutes and cool off and then talk again. That was two hours ago, one would think Cat's run out of tears by now."

"I'll go talk to her."

"Hey, I also wanted to apologize for punching you."

"Robbie, do you actually think your punch hurt me that much?"

Cat opens the door for me, but warns me to close and lock it once I'm through. She's sitting on Jade's bed, in Jade's dark, demented room filled up with obscure music and rock n' roll bandleader posters. Cat's a sure distinction from her surroundings, a little magenta-haired creampuff lighting up a darkened dungeon of teenage angst.

"Hi, Andre."

"Hey, Little Red."

"I've missed you."

I crouch down in front of her. "What happened?"

"Robbie came to yell at me more, and call me more names. I hate him."

"Cat, he told me he came to apologize and you took his words wrong."

"That's what they all say."

"Doesn't that make at least one of them right then?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, Cat. Why…tell me what's wrong."

"You and Tori make a good couple."

"Thanks?"

"I'm glad you two are happy together."

"Cat…"

"Do you think we could have been happy together?"

"No, no I don't, Cat, because I don't love you."

"You don't love me."

"I don't love you."

We repeat this like we're in a therapy session.

She inhales and exhales repeatedly, bear hugging a pillow in her grasp.

"You know this, Cat. You were okay with it, remember? We were okay the next day, we laughed, we had a soap bubble fight."

"And you and Beck left me while I was in the shower."

"That was Beck's fault."

"But…"

"Isn't that a little besides the point now, Cat?"

"What do I do?"

"You go and tell Robbie you love him, because I know you do. He makes you laugh and smile just as I do. You guys could have your own soap bubble fights, and he could watch those cartoons you like."

"I do like cartoons."

"I know you do, Cat."

I get up and walk over to the door, readying my hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to open the door now, okay? Robbie's gonna want to come in, can he?"

She pouts and looks away.

"Cat…can he come in?"

"Yes," She mutters, and I open the door.


	9. We Found Each Other in the Dark

Chapter 9 "We Found Each Other in the Dark"

"It doesn't fit you."

"Are you sure?" I ask, trying to fasten the buttons on the vest over my white collared shirt. "I could have sworn it fit."

"It fits when a girl isn't in the room. It doesn't when a girl with style is in the room."

She makes me laugh a bit from the chair she's sitting in. I look at the suit I'm wearing, and for some strange reason it honestly doesn't even look right anymore, let alone fit right. It's like magic. How come the girls are always the ones with the good fashion sense? It makes me look silly.

She creeps up behind me and kisses my cheek. "You still look cute, don't worry."

"I'll just have to pick out something new. It's nothing to worry about."

"No keep it. You look fine."

We walk out to see Beck and Jade walking out from their own fitting room. Tori backs up a bit when she sees something, but I'm not quite sure what. Jade takes a long sip from her slushie as Beck puts his hand on my shoulder and whispers into my ear, "I look good _and_ it's cheap."

We drive a long way. Tori falls asleep in my arms. Jade takes periodic glances into the rearview mirror. Beck taps his hand on the driver door to the beat of the Classic Rock music playing. The rings on his hand make the tapping very irritating, but I drown it out by falling asleep with Tori, my head leaning against the window, watching things fly by and I feel myself blurring away again into a black, white, and gray static. I can feel my hands tangled in her hair before I drift away.

"How do I look?" She giggles, spinning around and around in her dress.

"You look beautiful," I sigh, in awe of her look. She blushes a little and turns back to Cat's bedroom mirror, assessing herself. Beck and Jade are downstairs putting on their shoes and Robbie and Cat are outside doing whatever it is that they do. Tori assesses herself a little while more before I warn her of the time. "Okay, okay," She grumbled and grabs my wrist and rushes out of the door. I nearly trip down the stairs as I follow her. She's eager tonight. She's happy, and I'm glad of that. Tonight I feel my heart beating. I can feel it hitting my chest and making me pain, but it's a beautiful pain. It means I'm alive, despite what I've been feeling. This just means that everything passes, you just have to give it time. She rushes through the kitchen and loses her grip on my wrist in the process. Before I reach everyone at the front door, she's already halfway out the front door. And as I put on my black dress shoes, I feel fear sink to the bottom of my stomach like stones. I don't want to blow this for her. This is her day. This is what she wants, and I need to make it a perfect night for her. She deserves everything to be perfect. And once I reach outside, Beck and Jade take off on his motorcycle, revving down the narrow street, and Cat and Robbie are getting into the limo that the rest of us are taking, and everything is moving too fast. I need time. I need time to make sure everything will be perfect, for Tori, and for Cat. They deserve it. Tori runs fast to the limo door, nearly breaking it off as she gets in. They're all shouting for me to hurry up. I'm so nervous. I'm far from perfect, but I need to feign it, for her, for them, for all of them. I owe it to them for dragging them down with me when things were bad. Things are good again now, I owe it to them. "Scoot over, Robbie," I say as I sit down on a warm leather seat. Cat's dancing to the music echoing quietly throughout the car. She takes Robbie's hands in hers and she makes him dance to, and he's absolutely fine with it. It's as if Cat never had feelings for me. It's as if Robbie had never punched me in the nose. It's as if things have been fine forever, and none of the previous months ever happened. It was just a bad nightmare that I'm now just waking up from. I'm making the direct transition from terrible nightmare to wonderful dream.

Tori looks out of the window with a bitten lip. I think, to her, time can't go fast enough. Yet all I want to do is freeze time. The extravagant bun her hair is in is glorious, the blue dress she's wearing is magnificent, and the make-up she's wearing make her eyes look like waves in an ocean. She's prepared to truly live up to her name and be a princess tonight. She takes my hand in hers and she squeezes hard a few times, quietly squealing to herself. I lie my head back on the leather seat and close my eyes. Everything is great, despite my nervousness. Everything feels a bit too great, like if I don't mess anything up, somebody or something will.

The school has loudness to it, but it doesn't echo into the streets. You can just hear the bass bumping inside and the vibration under your feet. There's an aura of exhilaration obtruding from everyone here tonight. Cat and Robbie already make their way inside, giggling the whole way to the front door. Tori makes her way inside as well, but I hang back and wait for Beck and Jade. It takes a few looks out into the huge crowd to find them, but it's not hard to see Jade's black lipstick and her dark blue highlights. Beck fixes the silver watch on his wrist as he walks up to me, nudging me in the shoulder and asking me what am I waiting for. Jade says to him, "I'll be inside. Don't wait until your hair is gray to come in." as she walks past us and into the school. "Let's go, bro, can't keep the ladies waiting."

The darkness and the loud music all makes me feel like I'm at a rave. The colorful lights don't help. I lose everyone but Tori in the dark and the crowd, but really she's all I need. I hold her close. Her arms wrapped around my neck and my hands filling the small of her back. We dance slowly, like the floor below us is fragile glass. Her face is buried into my shoulder, but her eyes still see me. I know I'm all she sees, and she's all I see. This is no different from when we danced in my room. The close intimacy is still here. The sense of hope is still here. She's still here, holding me, having faith in us again. It's all I ever wanted. It's all I ever needed, her and me. She giggles as I twirl her around and pull her back to me. Everyone is happy, everything is good. This feels like the end of a long, overrun love story. The boy gets the girl, in fact, all the boys get their girls, the happiness is back, the angst is gone. Except, the rising action didn't even come, there was no climax, and the villain still lives, so how can it be the end? How can it be a proper story? "Let's never fight again," I whisper into her ear, but I don't think she hears me over the soothing music playing. I look around at everyone around us. They all hold their lovers close, with love and with comfort, but still their love doesn't compare to Tori's and mine. None of their love compares. And I think she knows the same, because I feel her smile on my shoulder. I can't see it, but I know it's beautiful.

She mutters something into my shoulder, and I bend down to hear it. "What did you say?"

"I said this is perfect."

We leave earth, and enter through the gates of Heaven. A Heaven I'm starting to believe in now. We dance through the fog of clouds, feathers falling like snow. Her nails dig into my back. She's afraid to let go. I brush my hand through her hair and tell her to close her eyes, "It'll be okay." I tip her chin up and our lips collide. This is our perfect moment. No moment prior has been as perfect as this. And nothing will ever be again, not until we say our vows and bring angels into the world, looking up at us with innocent, childish eyes. But I'm looking too far into the future. I should be here-in the now-but forever. I should never forget this feeling. Even when I'm on my deathbed, or sitting by her on hers, I should always be able to tell her the stories we had in our youth, particularly this feeling. It's unexplainable, but I'd try my best, and she'd still enjoy the story and she'd smile, and that's all I need. Her lips taste of anxiety, but her now open eyes show love, hope, and comfort.

The song ends, and we're brought back down to earth. We break apart and stare into each other's eyes.

"Thirsty?" I say, having nothing else come to mind.

"Only a little."

I turn around and begin to ease and occasionally shove through the crowd as a faster song starts to play. I search for them, and they're not hard to find. Cat and Robbie are dancing with each other like it's the 50's, but it's still cute in some weird way. I can't find Beck and Jade but they're probably off deep in the crowd somewhere. I reach the punch bowl and smell it to see if it's spiked. I grab a hard plastic cup and the ladle in the bowl and I pour her half a cup of fruit punch. I begin to bang my head to the loud and fast Dubstep playing and I start to walk back. Tori's talking to some guy who seems a bit familiar, but Cat catches my attention with a playful nudge of her elbow.

"Hey, Andre, having fun?"

"Yeah, it's really cool here. Where'd Robbie go?"

"He went to go clean his pants, he got punch on them," She puts her hands to her mouth and giggles. "It looks like he peed himself."

"I wouldn't put that past him, actually."

"Andre…I just wanna thank you for helping me with Robbie. I'm really happy."

"I'm glad about that, Cat, I really am."

She stands on her tiptoes and pecks me on the cheek and smiles sweetly. She turns her head and her expression changes confusingly. "Hey, who's that guy talking to Tori?"

I turn my head and the punch nearly slips out of my hand. It's Troy, the head of the mob who attacked me and Beck and preyed on Cat. He's trying to do the same to Tori. I leave Cat and rush through the crowd, spilling most of the punch on the way through. I hurry up to them, and Tori rushes to me.

"It's you," Troy says.

"Andre, he was trying to hit on me and I just kept saying no."

I look at Troy incredulously and I splash whatever's left of the drink onto him, and then I jump on him and begin to wail on him. One of his goons grabs me by both of my shoulders and throws me onto my back. Tori screams in the loud gym and I'm not surprised everyone heard her, even the principal by the front entrance. By the time Beck gets into the fight and begins to help, it's a brawl. Everyone's attacking everyone, and the officials have a hard time getting through the viewing crowd to detain everyone. Shockingly, Robbie shows up and hits one of Troy's friends with a wooden chair on his back, knocking out the guy. I get grabbed by someone and held while another guy punches me in the stomach a few times before I kick him in the face and head butt the guy behind me. I think I break my hand punching Troy in the chin, but it's worth it seeing his chin collapse and hang open as he plummets to the ground. Tori looks on with worry and shouts for us to get out of here, but I've got something to finish. I turn Troy around and get on top of him. I use my different hand to wail on him again, forcing tears out of him even though he had no intentions on crying. Blood soon overcomes the tears and his face is a mess. I may feel bad later, because this isn't me, this isn't me at all, but he's been harassing me and my friends for the longest, and it's time he learns his lesson. Beck and Robbie run over and try to pull me off of him.

"Hey man, it's over, it's over. We won."

"Come on, let's get out of here, like Tori says."

The lights raise, and blinding, flashing lights rush into the room. Whistles are blown. The police are here. Kids run all over the place, trying to get out. Through all of the chaos, we all see Tori's dad among the men in blue.

I grab Tori by the shoulder and shout, "What is he doing here? I thought he was gone on official business or something."

With wide, fearful eyes she responds, "I don't know! I have no idea! Let's get out of here!" And so we do. Robbie and Cat help us blend into the crowd while Beck runs off to find Jade. The music is turned off and the gym instead fills with the screams of hundreds of marijuana and alcohol carrying teenagers. Tori runs faster than practically everyone on her way out of the door, with us close behind. I grab her shoulder so I won't lose her in the huge, frantic crowd until we get clear. The teachers try to restrain everyone so the cops can detain us, but we push through and only a few are caught when I look back. I don't look back again.

Her night is ruined, and it's because of me. It's because I couldn't control myself. I couldn't control my anger, and I ruined a perfect night. But when I look at her with question on my face, and she looks back with understanding, I confirm what I already knew; she's the one for me. When a person still loves you even in your darkest hour, she's the one to keep. "Come on, man, we gotta keep going," Beck shouts as he runs into me. And so we do.

* * *

><p><strong>Days Later<strong>

"Francine Harris was a wonderful woman. She was bold…and brave…and, uh, and strong. She lived a long life, but God wanted her home, and he's got big plans for her. He has big plans for all of us…"

I hate this. I don't even wanna be here. I don't even know anyone besides the gang. My grandma sits up there with a pastor that doesn't even know her. I guess that's the problem of not belonging to a church, you have to resort to a rinky-dink one. These strangers with sad, overly operatic faces on, I should know but I don't, and I feel uncomfortable. I came here for my grandma, not to hear a pastor bullcrap his way through a funeral and not to be showered with fake condolences from family I've never even met or family friends who rarely visited, if ever. I get up abruptly and walk down past the pews and out of the front door. I bang my fist against the door as it closes, the cast wrapped around my hand making a loud knocking noise. I don't care if people looked, I don't care. I don't care. Screw all of them. I don't know why they came. I don't even know why I came. I don't deserve to be here. Tori was more a grandkid to her than I ever was. She rushes out after me, asking what's wrong.

"That goddamn pastor knows nothing about my grandma! When a pastor doesn't personally know the person they're talking about, they rush their way through, it's called bull. I've been sitting here for three hours hearing nothing but botched information and false love coming from this guy, and not to mention no one's gone up there to say something sweet about her." She takes my hand. "And I'm just sick of it. If they were gonna just disrespect her like this, they could have just taken her back up to her bedroom and left her there to rot. I'm just…sick of it."

"Well you haven't gone up there to say anything either, Andre…"

I narrow my eyes at her. I think I scare her, which upsets me. "I'm just saying maybe your anger is misdirected right now, alright? That's all I'm saying."

"Then what should I direct it at then?"

"I don't know, just, let's just go back inside and stay calm. That's all I'm asking."

She stares at me a while. "Do you wanna go?"

"Yeah."

* * *

><p><strong>Tori<strong>

It's not him throwing plates at the wall this time, but me. I storm past shattered glass on the floor in my rage. I can't control my anger. He is sober, so he doesn't hit me. He just sits and listens in silence. I can't even keep track of my words, of my jumbled sentences, of anything I say. I'm just so angry. Trina and my mom stand over by the kitchen, awkwardly sitting in silence as well, listening to a spew of fury. "MOVING?" I shout at Rick, slamming an open hand to the wall, the small mirror close by swinging left and right before shattering on the floor.

"Why are we moving?"

He sighs before responding. "You weren't here when I got back. I know where you were, Victoria. Where else would you be? Now…I'm not angry, just disappointed."

"Oh wait is that supposed to make me feel better? Tell the bruises on my face from when you were drunk! You're sober now, tell me you're sorry for being a lousy drunk! Tell me! Tell your daughter that you're sorry you beat her! Tell her you're sorry you beat her like a dog! Tell your little princess that you love her!" The anger vanishes, and I fall to my knees.

I look up at him, but he makes a hard effort to not meet my eyes. "Daddy please…don't do this. Dad, Dad," I repeat, shaking his leg. Dads don't do this. I want him to see me. I need him to see me. For the first time in years, he needs to know who and what I am. "I love him, Daddy, I love him…please. You can't change that. Nothing you can say will change that. Don't do this to me. Dad look at me…._dad_." And as much as I hate him, as much as I hate him to see me cry, I do.

My room is cold, not warm and comforting as it usually is…as it should be. It's like it knows I won't be back to see it days from now. It's like a shunned dog or something. But no matter how cold it gets, how shunned it gets, it always has open arms and a soft pillow to bury my head in. No one's been in to check on me since I came up here two hours ago. The closest to it was Trina, who stopped at my closed door to listen in and spy on me. I guess that's something. It's…it's not nothing, at least. A simple knock on my window and I don't have to think twice. I know it's Andre. He eases on in and I shut the window after him. His face is wet and his clothes drenched. I didn't even know it was raining outside. He can see the distress on my face, in my heart.

"What's wrong?" He asks, standing in the middle of my room, dampening my floor.

I breathe heavy and stare at him right back.

"What is it, Tor?"

"Andre…"

"Did he beat you again? Did he hit you again?"

"No, no, calm down."

"Then what…is…it?"

I slowly walk over to him and take his hand in mine. "Promise you won't get mad."

"You of all people know I can't make that promise."

I exhale deeply. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And you know I'll love you forever?"

"Hopefully…what is it?"

I play with his hand, rubbing my fingers over his fingernails. I try to get the words out, but I know Andre, and I know what he'd try and do with Rick right downstairs. So in my anxiety, I kiss him. It's unexpected and he falls back onto the bed, our kiss not once breaking. My kisses are rough, frantic, feral. If I never see him again, this will be our defining moment. This will be us, and only us. His hands find their place on my hips, and that's as far as they travel. He's afraid to venture, and I can't say I'm not. All we do is kiss for a long time. Even though our lips are soft, the embrace is still rough and rushed and fast. This doesn't feel like love, I know this isn't love. This is fear. It's the fact of who I think deserves what, and if I'm up to giving that to them, whether they want it or not, whether it's the time for it or not, because that time won't ever come again. There never will come a perfect time, so I have to make this time perfect. It storms outside, and it storms inside. The rain is falling down on us hard, and it's filling my room, it's rising above us and filling our lungs. We're drowning. We're drowning in our passion, in our fear, in our love, but then I realize I'm the only one drowning, and it's in my own tears.

"What's wrong? Hey, hey Tori, what's wrong?"

"I can't…I just…I can't! I'm sorry."

He hushes me as best he can. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay. Just like last time, it's okay. No one's…no one's pressuring you."

"Andre…I'm leaving."

"To where?"

"I don't know where. I'll be gone…I'll be gone a long time, Andre. I'm…we're moving."

He sits up, his eyes narrow again and staring at me, through me, down the hall and straight into the dragon's lair. He nearly throws me off of him and starts towards the barricaded door before I pull on his arm.

"Andre no! Will you stop? Please, Andre, don't! He's got a gun, please, Andre!"

He rips himself from me and yells at me. "Get off of me!"

"Andre…"

"I'm sick of it! I've tried and I've tried! Things only get better to get worse again! There is no top, there is no goddamn bottom! It's always gonna be a bottomless pit with you isn't it?"

"Andre, lower your voice, please!"

"All I've been through, all I've _been _through and all I get is problems."

"Are you saying I've caused all this?"

"I'm saying you're the problem!"

What…

"Andre…please stop yelling at me."

He hits the wall behind him a few times with his cast. He's close to hyperventilating.

"You're the one being the cynic now, aren't you? You're the one giving up hope now."

"You don't have much more hope than I do."

"I have a plan."

He slides to the floor and sighs angrily.

"Just quiet down and listen to me please. I know the route we're going to be taking, because it's the only way out of the city, maybe even the state, from here. I'll flatten the car tires or something, and then I'll run out into the fields with the high grass…where you'll be waiting. Do you know Freeway 73?"

"Yeah…I know it."

"Do you know the grassy field out there? Be there at four P.M tomorrow."

"You're leaving _tomorrow_?"

"I'm sorry, Andre…I really am. Let's just pray this plan works."

He gets up and walks back to the window. My head is spinning, everything has been moving so fast…I get up and stop him halfway out the window.

"Tori, stop." He looks up at me. "I'm sorry for what I said. You know I didn't mean it. I never mean it."

"I know. You've been through a lot. Just…just get sleep tonight, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

"I doubt I will," He says, jumping from my window to a tree close by.

"Wait, to getting sleep or to seeing me again?"

I think he answers me, but the heavy storming separates us in darkness. It always does.

**A/N-The next chapter of Ivory Heart is due to be the last one. It's time now that I thank everyone who's reviewed, alerted, and favorited so far over the past few months Ivory Heart has been written, and time that I tell everyone to hang on to their seats.**


	10. Two Lovers in an Ivory Field

Chapter 10 "Two Lovers in an Ivory Field"

* * *

><p>"Hey grandma," I sigh, leaning against her tombstone, set deep into the ground. The warm grass beneath me comforts me against the chill morning breeze. I lie back and spread my arms behind me, letting my fingers get coated in the grass's sprinkled dew. I speak to her and I wonder if she can really hear me, or if there really is nothing after all of this. "It's chaotic here, grams, it really is." A leaf scrapes across the grave from the wind and it scratches, making a noise. "What is that, grandma? Yeah, yeah I'm doing fine. Don't worry about me. Actually, it's really hard here. I'm in so much pain." I change positions and lie back against the tombstone. I look to my left and imagine her lying here with me. "I'm sorry I wasn't a very good grandson. Do you forgive me?" The wind blows gently, and I smile. I know it's her…somewhere. "Thanks, grandma. I would really love your help right now, you know? Things are confusing, and they're moving too fast, and I think I'm spiraling out of control again. Tell me…when you went…did it hurt, did you feel it?" I sit back up, inhaling the morning. "I ask because…I don't know. Maybe I'll be seeing you sooner than you think. I just wanted to know what death is like. Everyone wants to believe that it's better than this. They want to believe Paradise is out there. But then again how can they know? Life after death, if it exists, could be worse than this. Maybe that's why I'm still here, grandma. Maybe I'm scared. What do you think about all of this? Do you think I'm nuts? Do you think I'm some kind of coward? I think I'm all of those things. But even so, you don't have to worry, I'm able to take care of myself, one way or the other, and I'll take care of your cats." The wind blows again, dew lifting from the grass. "Yeah, I'll take care of Tori, too."<p>

The walk back is long, but it's one very much needed. I take the back way to Cat's house, to avoid getting jumped or anything like that. I wonder if, no, I hope she'll have Robbie over there with her, if not, I at least hope her parents are back by now. As my body walks, my mind stays behind and ponders. I shouldn't have left Tori alone last night. I shouldn't have left her alone with her father. I was angry, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I hope she's okay, and I hope her plan works…she seemed pretty confidant last night, but then again, she also seemed pretty scared. Maybe it was me and my bad temper. Sometimes I wonder what she sees in me, because I can find one strong similarity between me and her father, our violent tempers. One would think she wants to get away from all of that. She runs from him and into my arms, from the left fist to the right. I would never forgive myself if I ever lost my temper on her, if I ever struck her, I'd surely see my grandma before it's time. It's easier to think than to act upon, but I need to understand she's trying, she's finally trying, and she's doing it as hard as she can. It makes me smile one minute, and forces me to wonder if I'm worth it the next. Everything depends on chance, something I lost belief in a long time ago. Somewhere along the line, I've forgotten that the world is a beautiful place.

Every rap on Cat's front door is like a tug at my heart. I don't know why, I just don't belong here right now. It's not where I need to be, it's not where I want to be either. I hear tiny, small pattering on the steps. My body moves before my mind follows once again. In my mind, I'm on the porch explaining to Cat why I can't be there right now, why I can't be there, or at Beck's, or Jade's, but my body is already running to Tori's, and I can picture Cat standing there seeing nothing, but knowing exactly who it was at her door. I can picture her walking back upstairs to greet Robbie in her room. I can see them blowing soap bubbles throughout her bright pink room. Ironically, I'm running faster than I was when Troy's mob of losers where after Beck and me. I was running for my life then, what am I running for now? And why there? I'm running to a house where a guy with a gun hates my whole existence, but my heart lies there, so I may die if I go and I'll surely die if I don't. My calves burn like hell and I'm losing air but I press on, garnering stamina from a great, wide unknown.

Her door's weaker than I thought it would be, or maybe I'm just close to breaking it down. By the end of my frantic knocking, my hand rests spread on the door. I close my wind-tired eyes and imagine her hand meeting mine on the other side, her eyes closed as mine are. The door opens to a wide-eyed Tori, they nearly pop out of her head when she sees me. I rush through the door and past her, searching for the man who I kill, or who kills me. I head to the kitchen for a knife as the three women shout and yell that he's not here. Despite that, I still search throughout the house, Tori trying to hold me back the whole time. She's yelling for me to get out, and it's hurting me to disregard her pleases and cries, but I have to do it. I have to look this man, this…this thing in the eye for the first time ever, and then plunge a knife deep into it. I once saw a movie that said, "War does terrible things to men," and I can only agree. When I find that the house really is empty, I turn around to Tori slapping me in the face an instance before her lips are locked to mine. With our lips crushed together, she's cursing me with what little breath she has left. She's saying what an idiot I am and how I could have been killed. Before she can say much else, I deepen the kiss. I wish I could drop my guard completely, because usually with her I can, but I'm behind enemy lines, and there are dug trenches everywhere. Trina and their mom are off in a corner as Tori mutters incoherent things to me, mostly about how I'm an idiot and such, and I think it's cute how she thinks her loose fists against my chest actually hurt. After her adorable rage, she rests in my arms as I hold her close.

I whisper into her ear, "Where's your father?"

She starts to say he's not her father, but she stops and says, "He's out renting a car that can get us away, far away from here, that's at least what he said. Our car's been having problems, so it won't get us anywhere."

I laugh and it blows her hair slightly. "I've got a bit of a temper problem."

"I've noticed."

"But don't ever think I'd take it out on you, okay? Don't ever think that."

"I wouldn't."

"I'm not your father." The more I say it, the more I hate him, the more I hate myself. I'm her father, I'm my father, I'm the complex of rage and confusion. I'm a belligerent drunk but I've never touched a drop of liquor. I look over to see Trina fixing her hair and make-up in a small mirror. "What is she doing?"

"She…does that," Tori chuckles, and then she's telling me I need to get out of here before someone gets hurt. I contemplate obeying, but then I finally notice the obvious suitcases and bags scattered around the living room. They're going to leave this house as if it never existed, and then probably burn it to the ground just because I've set foot in it. I can't leave…I won't. She's tugging at my arm again, begging me to leave. "Stick to the plan," She says, "Stick to the goddamn plan." Trina and Mrs. Vega pretend not to hear a word; I pray they don't speak "not a word" as well. She rushes upstairs, me close behind. We barge into her room and she turns around hastily to meet me. "Just stick to the plan, Andre. Freeway 73, alright? We have to drive by there. The speed limit's slow there, it'll be slow enough for me to open the door and jump out, and I'll meet you right by the sign. It literally says Freeway 73 on it."

"And then what?"

"And then anything," She smiles.

Kissing her is a beautiful thing. I always feel warm when I do. I feel like I belong, and I've never felt that way, not even in our little group of friends, not really. We kiss as if it's our last, as we always should do. It makes it tragic, mortal, knowing that our embrace will end. And as it always does, well, it does. I wish I could just hold her in silence, I wish we had the time.

**Tori**

I wish we had the time to hold each other in silence, but instead, I watch him slip out of the window just like last night, except for it's sunny today. It's a real sunny morning. I don't shut the window after he's gone, even though it's pretty chilly. In case he comes back, which he damn well shouldn't, he'll be welcome. I just hope he makes it there by four. I head downstairs to see Trina and Mom standing exactly where they were, as if it's a sin to move without permission or something weird like that. I cross the living room and engulf them into my arms. It's the tightest bear hug I think I've ever given, and I don't even know why I'm giving it. I just…love them…and I wish I could just apologize for all of the things they've been put through just because of me, and Rick's…Dad's complete hatred for me and my happiness. But I don't. I don't say a word. I sob audibly as I hug them. It's a Hallmark moment and I'm sure Trina will tease me for it later, but right now I can tease her too, because she's hugging me right back, just as tight and just as meaningful. Mom takes a little longer to respond, but her arms soon find their way around my waist, and she presses her face into my rib. She's trembling below me and I think she's crying, too. Our bags are packed, but our memories are left here. In fact, I think I remember Dad saying just that, "Toothbrushes, socks, no memories."

My room is freezing cold. I jump onto my bed and let the covers swallow me up. The radio my dad gave me when I was little plays, and I try to fall asleep and wait for four, the ride to a new life. There's a knock and I perk up, searching for Andre's warm eyes, instead I see another pair of eyes, my father's. He pretends to shiver and hold himself, smiling at me. After he takes in my blank expressive reply, he walks over to the window and shuts it, a last gust of cold wind entering the room.

"Can you turn the radio down, please?" He asks. The only cold part of him now has to be his shoulder, and he sighs. I don't know or care why he sighs, it won't warm him, and it won't make me talk. He walks over and does it himself, the soft crooning turning into a whisper and then nothing but an out of place click. "Tori…I love you. I think you've forgotten that over time. I think I've forgotten it, too."

I sit up in the bed and stare at him, letting him continue. "You're always going to be my princess. I've just…I've had problems, Tori, and you with boys just confuses me right now. You're still eight years old to me. Jesus, you're still a newborn to me, you know?"

"Especially black boys, right?"

"Would right now be a bad time to blame your grandpa for my way of thinking? I grew up…odd, if that's an appropriate enough word for you."

"You grew up a racist asshole."

"Okay…I grew up a racist asshole. But Tori, I'm trying. I really am, and I love you."

"You're trying? All this time being banned from school, I must have missed the memo saying that trying was being glued to a bottle like a priest is to a little goddamn altar boy."

He gives a dry chuckle to the comparison, and he wipes away something from his face. "You won't forgive me, will you?"

"I don't know, I can't think straight with all of the hits to my face."

He knows what I mean, and he looks at his hands like they're bloody. He sighs and pats his hands on his knees as he rises. He turns on my radio back to relatively where it was, and he walks out of the room without another word. He's probably heading to the bottle right now. He's going to be sauced and driving, how fun.

I open my eyes to loud noises downstairs. I run out of my room and into the bathroom. I balance myself on the bathtub and look out of the small, circular window. Dad's yelling at Trina and Mom as they load their bags into the trunk, and he has a bottle in his claws. I begin to run downstairs before he yells for me, too, and I'm standing at the front door with my bags in my hands before I can say, "Disaster." I nearly throw up at the smell of booze on him as he shouts into my face to get into the car. I ignore him and walk outside, where Mom runs over to help me with my stuff.

If this doesn't work, I hope Andre says goodbye to everyone for me, even Jade, who I think cares for me even though she'd burn in Hell before admitting to such a claim. The car ride is cold and silent, except for the faint sound of Trina's tears hitting the leather of the seats and the beer in Rick's glass splashing around. Some deep fear in me concludes that Andre won't be there at the sign, that he'll just let me go off to nowhere, a prisoner like I've always been. I look near the dash and see something that should've caught my eye earlier. It's a gun. In fact, it's a shotgun. I wouldn't be surprised if he was driving us out to nowhere to execute us all, but it's probably in case we run into any trouble…and trouble I've planned. The bend approaches, and I see the sign. I push Mom and Trina out of my mind now, I push everything out but the instinct to run and be happy. The car slows down and my grip on the door handle grows tighter. Dad never cared enough to lock the doors so that's a good thing for once. My hand trembles, and I just hope I'm precise enough. I look into the rearview mirror and I lock eyes with him inadvertently. And as if he knows, he starts to speed up the car a bit more, breaking the limit. I open the car door and tumble out, rolling on the rough ground. I hear him yell fiercely from the car ahead and he gets out. I stumble up and run into the high grass, pushing mounds of it out of my way so I can search for my lover, but I don't see him. "Andre?" I repeat over and over, but there's not answer. It gets harder to search through blurry, watery eyes. "Andre?" Oh God, oh God… "_Andre_?" And just as I'm to accept my fate, a hand grabs my wrist and I squeal, but it's Andre. Shots fire behind us, he's truly trying to kill us. "Go, go!" I shout, and we're holding hands, running for our life.

**Andre**

We run through the meadow, her hand intertwined with mine beside her. The fear on her face is ethereal, too haunting to be real. I've never really believed in angels before her, and I've never believed in demons before her father. I can honestly feel every little thing right now. I feel the burn of the sun, the brush of the pollen against my cheek, and the blood pumping through my veins. And it hurts. It hurts to be alive because that means I'm taking a risk. I'm in love and they're no edges to grab onto now that I've fallen too deep, but that doesn't bother me. Love is a never ending abyss filled with vines, and the farther you fall in, the darker it gets and you get tangled forever. I don't want to escape. I'll be happy in the dark, as long as Tori's there alongside me. Not behind me, not in front of me, but beside me. I was a lost soul until Tori found it, until she found me. I hear the blast of the gun going off, but I don't let it stop me, and I pray it doesn't hit us. I don't have any idea where we're going, and I don't think she has any idea either. We're just running, for our lives, for our love. Her father isn't going to stop, but neither are we. We'll run to the end of the earth and see who falls off first. She was the only light in a continually darkening abyss, and she still is. But I'm neither stupid nor blind. I could see that she was a cracked stone angel herself. Far from perfect is just right for me. We saved each other. We were meant for each other. Those words from my father, they could never apply to me and Tori. Ironically enough, I do believe in fate. In my eyes, Tori and I are destined. And I believe it more and more every step we take, every squeeze she gives my hand, and for every time she whispers…

"Run, run, run, run!"

**_The End_**

* * *

><p><strong>AN-Well, we made it, didn't we? What a ride, no? I hope you all enjoyed this fic as much as I did, and I thank you all who took the time to read and review, alert, favorite, etc. Show's over, folks. I bow, and I bid you adieu. **

**-WOG**


	11. Extra Soundtrack and Acknowledgments

Soundtrack to Ivory Heart

Heavy In Your Arms-Florence + the Machine

As Much as I Ever Could-City and Colour

What Makes a Man-City and Colour

Death is the Road to Awe-Clint Mansell (Running sequence at end of story)

Don't Panic-Coldplay

Ghosts-Chris Taylor

Lost-Coldplay

505-Artic Monkeys

Hearts a Mess-Gotye

* * *

><p><span>Acknowledgments<span>:

MrEpic92

emeralddusk

JadeplusBeck

the Joker1124

DUHitskcx3, :3

Thewhitestblackpersonyouknow

Jjliob

let'sjustflyaway

So Far Gon3

506thpir

And to the anonymous reviewers, thank you as well.

And a thank you to my friend Jamie, a.k.a you all know her as demondreaming, for inspiring me to become a fanfiction writer in the first place.

This fanfic is dedicated to all of those who have suffered heartbreak, you know you're out there :p

-**WOG**


End file.
